


A Rush of Blood to the Head

by mimiplaysgames



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Aquanort - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Introspection, Light Romance, Light friendship, PTSD, Post-trauma healing, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimiplaysgames/pseuds/mimiplaysgames
Summary: Years of being trapped in the Realm of Darkness, she had nothing but her fading memories and a bond with an unusual friend. Until a day when she was finally given a chance for freedom. She just needed to agree to an offer - a trade. Her life for Terra's.





	1. Two Losses

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my contribution to the Aquanort craze following that CRAZY E3 2018 reveal. WOW. I was inspired and came up with this. I hope it is enjoyable!! 
> 
> I also want to make a note here that this is NOT what I am theorizing or suggesting is going to happen. I'm pretty much indulging in the tragic romantic subtext, which I think is okay in this case, hahaha.
> 
> The series is titled after Coldplay's "A Rush of Blood to the Head." The lyrics serve as a profound theme for Terraqua in this context.  
> The fair trade scene was done to Michael Giacchino’s “Life and Death” from Lost Season One.

_The thunderstorm raged outside. Rain furiously hammered the tall windows of the academy, but every time lightning flashed, it illuminated the silhouettes of the mountains. It was a beautiful yet ferocious sight, seeing the summits covered by blackened clouds._

_Aqua walked through the halls in her pajamas, wrapping herself in a blanket as she headed towards the lounge. It was one of the best places in the castle to relax and catch sight of the storm. Never mind that it was close to midnight.  
_

_Terra was already there, with a small, dim lamp by his side and a large book open on his lap.  
_

_“And here I thought I was going to get some alone time,” she said, knowing full well that he understood it wasn’t what she meant._

_“Then go back to your room,” he said without looking up from his book._

_“So in a huge storm like this, you’re going to sit down and read?” Aqua walked up to the loveseat he was sitting on, and he instinctively moved over so she can have some space._

_“Didn’t you know that a huge storm like this is the best time to read a great book and let go of the imagination? No studying, no training, just fun nonsense.“_

_“What’s it this time?” There was always nonsense. Sometimes dragons. Sometimes wenches. Once there was a devil.  
_

_He turned to her with childish excitement, yet he kept his expression timid and small as usual. “Ghosts.”_

_Aqua rolled her eyes. “They exist?”_

_“In some worlds, they believe so.” He lifted a finger to emphasize his point._

_She scooted to get closer to him and gazed into the page he was currently reading. It seemed that he was nearly done with a specific section of the book discussing the nature of ghosts, how they became violent, and what it took to quell them. The next section was about spells that can summon the dead, and if he wasn’t stopped, he was going to continue reading through the night. This meant that her sparring partner would be sluggish the next day, and would probably be grumpy since he hated not being in his prime during fights.  
_

_She pointed and tapped to the end of the section before it started discussing the seances. “You’ll stop there.”_

_Terra grinned from ear to ear and her heart jumped a little. “Are you starved for attention or something?”_

_From him, yes. But she would never say that. “It’s more responsible if you sleep.”_

_He sighed and shook his head. “Okay mom. I swear, without you, I would forget to eat or brush my teeth. What would I ever do if I get lost?”  
_

_She hit him on the shoulder as he laughed._

 

* * *

 

Keeping her eyes closed gave her no solace. It was darkness all the same. The moonlight would have been pretty, and the sound of the ocean waves would have been relaxing, were it not for the endless numbness. It didn’t help that this was all she experienced anymore, and the hardest part was forcing herself to stay.

Aqua sat on the beach, the faint moonlight in the distance a constant reminder that she was still where she had been for what seemed like forever.

Forever. Surely there would be no end to it.

Tucking her knees up to her chest, Aqua gazed up to the moonlight, since there was nothing else to do. She decided to recount the reasons why she should keep going.

To find Terra. To save Ven. To find Terra. To save Ven.

But counting always came with a wave of memories.

The three of them together in the academy. Aqua practicing fire magic into a bucket, only to set the entire thing ablaze, a terrible pillar of flames rising up.

Ventus freaking out and casting air magic toward it, which made it bigger.

Terra, who seemed unfazed, dropping a bucket of water onto it. Telling Aqua that he didn’t look forward to when she was going to throw that at him during training, with that calm, slack smile that he always carried. That she missed.

These were just remnants now. And they left a dull, hard pain that numbness cannot ease.

The silence was also unbearable. It never stopped. Usually the voices she would hear were the ones that she remembered. Always in her mind. And most of the time, her mind wasn’t kind. How she pushed Terra away, how she didn’t understand him. How she bossed Ventus around instead of listening to him. All the times she could have done something differently to change what had happened.

“I’ve ruined us,” she said out loud, to break the quiet.

Aqua pulled out her Wayfinder, a trinket of a gorgeous blue hue that she had carefully made. A promise of a never-ending connection, with unique copies given to her best friends. No, she needed to go on.

Looking at the same moonlight and listening to the sound of the ocean never changed. She stood up and ventured back inland, knowing that at some point Heartless were going to attack her. But this was better than sitting for a never-ending time, though. It was otherwise the same routine.

Something had to change. Maybe soon Mickey will come back. It only had to be a matter of time. He wouldn’t just leave her here. She just had to be patient. But... can she wait for as long as she did? _He said ten years had passed when he was last here. I don’t know how I can handle waiting another decade..._

She stopped amidst tall grass. “Please come back,” she said aloud, hoping her words would travel far away from the Realm of Darkness and reach his ears. The tone of her voice was sad, but being here shredded any earnest expression of despair. She would even pray for despair, since it was something to feel other than a deadening semblance of tired hopelessness.

“Is there anyone else?” she asked out loud. Silence.

Aqua cast her gaze downward, feeling the need to cry but she was too numb to do so. She held her Wayfinder in both her hands. “I wonder if I’ll be okay in the end.”

“A remarkable question to ask to nothingness,” a voice said. The voice was incredibly deep, like it came from an older man. He spoke slowly, as if to express a sense of melancholy that he was also too desensitized to fully show it.

Aqua looked around her only to see an endless field of tall grass. “Who... W-where are you? Are you lost in the darkness, too?”

“I would say the end is merely a belief in which we convince ourselves into thinking that possibilities for us will surely cease.”

“I- I don’t see you at all. Who are you?” Someone that might change things for her? Someone that needed help?

“I am nothing, yet I am a friend.”

“Nothing?” She shook her head, despite realizing he might not be bale to see her either. “Should I call you a ghost then?”

“As you are for me.”

 

* * *

 

Aqua felt that the periods of time in between her friend’s visits were too long. But whenever he came, he was all the more welcomed.

“And here I venture again, unable to quell the need to come,” he said.

“Hi, friend,” she said, with a small smile to her lips, and it was the only kind of smile she was able to show in a place like this. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to visit me?”

She walked among the field, away from the beach. She took a habit of finding a place to lie down so that she can look at whatever stars were left behind from a world ravished by darkness. They sparkled less here, but she didn’t mind. It was better to have her friend with her than any other moment spent in this forsaken terrain alone.

“As I knew what would happen, as I have tried to prevent - the absence of my heart is being replaced. You are a threat,” he said.

Aqua at first didn’t know what to say. “I think that’s the strangest tease anyone has ever tried giving me. You’re not very good at this.” She took a moment to pause. “What do you mean that your heart is absent?”

“I am no one. I have no heart.”

“Then how do you exist?”

“In nothingness.”

Aqua sighed. “Of course.”

Circular words. Endless rambling that always led to the same point. She perceived her friend confused and lost. He never spoke of his past because he could not remember it. He was coy about where he was and where he came from, though he spoke about wanting to be whole again. He usually came to ask her about her own memories - what it was like to live and to feel. What her favorite foods were and whether she had an attachment to them.

Mostly random questions like they came from a curious child who didn’t know how the world worked. It helped her remember her happiest memories, however, such as when the Master took them to a an amusement park when she was young. She had forgotten about it before. The voice liked to listen to himself talk, although he was also very introspective, and this reminded her of Terra.

“I think you are very mistaken,” she finally said. “Even ghosts have hearts.”

“A wretched heart, so despaired by death that it attaches itself to its most beloved in life in order to stalk what it considers its possession. A haunting, driven by the desire to stay connected to its past until it rots.”

Aqua wasn’t surprised that he knew so much about ghosts. The voice was usually well-versed in the knowledge of hearts and how they functioned in all walks of life.

“It’s strange. I know I have never met you before,” she said, “but here you are haunting me.”

“I am not a ghost.” For someone who was apparently alive, he acted as though he had never lived before.

“Right. You are a _nobody_. Because that makes sense,” she said quietly, not really wanting him to hear the disbelief in her voice. “Why do you think you and I are connected then? I have tried thinking about it, but I’m certain that I have never known you.”

“Because you are a remnant of my past.”

She sighed loudly. “I wish you were more direct with me.” Aqua knew that the Realm of Darkness did not operate at a normal pace of time. She wondered if somehow, in the future, she would finally leave, and meet him.

“A storm rages outside as we speak,” he said.

Something about the statement made Aqua’s stomach flip, although it was uncomfortable. It was nauseating, as though she was on the brink of learning something terrible.

“I do not remember my past, but speaking with you reminds me of emotions that I cannot define, like a cloudy storm,” he continued. “Alone with my work, I am as I should be. Yet here, in this room that you haunt, I am faced with certain trepidations. It is unstable. What would I ever do if I were to become lost?”

Her stomach sank. Her thoughts traveled back to when she met with Terra in the darkness. _Is this what he meant when he implied that I won’t be able to recognize him? That his heart has ties to darkness? Does this mean that he’s dead?_ She was so shaken that she could barely speak without her voice quivering. “Terra?”

The voice took a long time to reply, and when he did, he spoke slower than normal. “I do not recognize that name, friend.”

She gasped out loud. She couldn’t comprehend his emotions, not that it mattered. If he was Terra, then she was worried for him. If he wasn’t, then she was disappointed that he still didn’t come back to help her. Either way, it was agonizing, so much so that her emotions were rising up and she could actually feel them in full.  Tears fell down her face. _I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to find Terra._

“Help me,” she said, wiping tears from her face. “I need to get out of here. I’m so worried about my friend.”

“Your friend’s name is Xemnas, and I have it in my power to find you.”

She stopped crying, so shocked by the statement that initially she didn’t believe him. But it stirred hope for the first time in such a long while that she had forgotten what it felt like. “Please.”

“I vow I will one day,” he said calmly.

Aqua was eager for Xemnas to come back after their last conversation. Feelings came easier for her, and she admitted to herself that she was experiencing excitement. She thought about all of the things she would be able to do again. To taste food again. To sleep. To find Ven and wake up him. To tease him. To look into Terra’s eyes. To confess to him how she had felt about him for years, the one thing she had never done and regretted the most. She needed the chance to do it.

She needed it so badly and she was certain Xemnas would grant it to her. She told herself that he treasured talking with her as much as she treasured his visits, since they had helped her survive. It was nice to think that she made a new friend that she could finally meet face to face. She promised herself to bake him something special as thanks for saving her.

But he never came. The more time continued passing, the more she realized that she was in denial as she sat on the beach looking at the moon. _Something horrible happened to him. He’s gone._

The excitement that she kept nurturing all this time swelled, but it was painful. She tucked her knees close to her chest and sobbed it all out until her throat hurt and her eyes swelled.

 

* * *

 

She came across a man on the beach. He was dressed in a long black robe, his hood covering his face. This man called himself Ansem, although his memories were clouded as well. A new companion, although the endless numbing of the Real of Darkness proved too much for him. He would sometimes disappear without her knowing where he went. She worried that he was going to snap at any moment. Conversations with him became more erratic as time went on, and eventually he made her feel alone even when was around.

At some point, it seemed as though he finally did. He was slumped on the  beach, responseless to her inquiries. She had promised herself to help and to take care of him, but in this way, it was like interacting with a statue. She wondered if she failed him, and asked him for forgiveness.

Defeated, she left the beach to walk across the field, if only to break the monotony of staring into the moonlight. Although the trek was tedious as well.

Today, however, something changed. Another man, one who was incredibly tall and barrel-chested, stood in the distance in a short wheat field in the night. He wore a similar robe and hood so that she couldn’t see his face.

“Hi there,” she said. “Are you lost, too?” She hoped that he wasn’t terribly affected by the darkness like the last one.

“What would you do if I were, friend?”

Aqua was surprised to hear this voice and it overwhelmed her with relief, that desperate need of feeling hope coming back.

“Xemnas,” she said with a breath as she approached him. “I’m so _relieved_. I was so sad that something might have happened to you.”

“It seems that the darkness hasn’t overtaken you just yet,” he said in a tone that depicted a scientist observing data.

Aqua shifted nervously at his expression. He seemed a bit _colder_ than usual.

“I have come to fulfill my vow,” he said as he turned to walk away.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, traversing behind him, unsure if she even wanted an answer. Something didn’t seem right. He was clearly right in front of her, but something about him didn’t give her the sense that he even existed. _Has the darkness harmed him?_

“I do not feel anything,” he said as he continued walking. “It has taken far too long to find you, and we need to hurry.” His tone was deadpan, and it almost seemed as though he had forgotten who she was.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she said as she stopped. He stopped as well, turning to face her. “I had waited so long for you to come-” she began to say, until she noticed his face.

“Xemnas, can I see you?” She held her hands to her chest, nervous.

He removed his hood to show a dark face with orange eyes and long white hair that graced his shoulders. A man she confirmed to herself she had never met before, and yet it was a familiar beautiful face. “Terra?”

Xemnas gazed upon her coldly, his hands behind his back. It was uncanny, the resemblance.

“Why do you-” She took a sharp breath in and walked towards him, reaching for him. “You _have_ to be him. Terra?”

Xemnas solemnly shook his head, and asked, “why do you think Terra has never come to rescue you?”

 _Because he didn’t want to_. But it couldn’t be. She wanted to believe that Terra would never leave her behind, that he really was in the trouble she had seen him in. She knew that if he had the chance, he would have come. She had to tell herself that. But if that was true, then what happened?

She retracted her hand, tears forming in her eyes. “Because you have him.”

Xemnas raised his hands as he looked down on them. “How precious it is, our past. The one thing that makes us for who we are, and the one thing that we can keep to ourselves, so long as we are able to still grasp it.”

She choked back her tears as she realized how foolish she had been. What comfort was there to someone who so desperately needed a friend? Nothingness. Her bond with Xemnas was nothing. Her throat clenched as she thought about the hours she had waited for him to come back. She thought about the comfort he had given her, when it never was supposed to exist. Only because he needed her for something. And now, Terra needed her.

She summoned her Keyblade. “Where is he?”

Xemnas, ignoring that she was threatening him, reached out to her with one hand. “He is here. Would you like to see him?”

 

* * *

 

Xemnas had pulled his hood back up as he led the way through the wheat field. Aqua followed behind him, her Keyblade still drawn. He had made no move to threaten her, nor did he attempt to attack her. The wheat they were walking through seemed to get taller, and it was disorienting.

They reached a clearing. On a boulder sat a tall man, hooded and robed. He seemed unresponsive to their entrance.

Xemnas stood his ground, as though he had reached his destination. Aqua tried to get an expression out of him, but was unable to read him. She looked upon the man sitting on the boulder. It had been so long now. The possibility that she was finally this close to Terra was unbearable.

“Terra?!” she called out as she ran towards him, but she was attacked by a powerful magnetic force from behind as she was thrown against the ground and her Keyblade flew out of her reach.

A different voice replied, “he will not respond.”

A different man entered the clearing, his face also hooded. His voice sounded much younger than Xemnas’.

“What does that mean?” She struggled to get up, her back sore from the blast.

The younger man waved his arms to play with the wheat. “We had to prepare him.” He summoned a Keyblade of his own, one that Aqua did not recognize. “We are here to discuss a deal with you. He has proven to be a most rambunctious, unreliable member of our Organization.“ His voice was almost sweet, but there was an aspect to the sweetness that seemed warped, as if he was insincere in his politeness. 

“I will not deal with _you_.”

“A shame, since we need to dispose of him.”

“You will not!” She summoned her Keyblade and attempted to get up and attack, but fighting both the man and Xemnas, who wielded dual swords of his own, proved to be fruitless. Her injuries piled on. Darkness here had always been stronger, and these men did not compare to the feral, unintelligent Heartless she’d been wasting away. She was slashed from behind, and stumbled onto the ground.

“It is just a deal of equal opportunity. His life for yours,” the young man said. “Surely, Terra’s life is worth some consideration from your part? Or has your heart blackened that much?”

Aqua, staring at her Keyblade, shook her head. “My heart isn’t-”

“Is it not a fair trade?”

Aqua breathed slowly. Terra. There were so many things left unsaid. There was so much confusion left unresolved. If she could have one more chance to find him in the lounge, sleeping with a book laid out on his chest, she would never scold him for it again. She would do anything it took to make him happy, since deep down she admitted that she knew he felt the same way for her.

But if she gave herself up for Terra, then Ventus wouldn’t have anyone there to wake him up.

Ventus. How she left him sleeping in that lonely room. He used to be vibrant. Always running around the castle. Always willing to spar. Always looking for a reason or a way to annoy her, with that silly toothy smile on his face. If she could, she’d give him a chance to be annoying again, since she knew it was his favorite thing to do. She would let him talk his ear out, and instead of silencing him, she would laugh. He needed her the most.

It was her punishment to choose.

_I’ve ruined us because I pushed the both of you away. I’m so sorry._

She squeezed her Keyblade and considered to fight again, but she was too weak to get up.

“Just think of what the both of you will gain,” the young man continued. “Freedom. You would both be free of the cages that keep you locked.“

Freedom. A chance to actually get back to life. But it wasn’t worth the price without the both of them back in her life. They were her family. _I can’t do anything for them here, anyway. I need to get out of here to help them.  
_

_I wonder... if I could use this to my advantage. If I can sabotage our enemies instead._

Throughout this time, she felt numb. But now, she had direction.

Aqua refused to choose. She kept her facial expression neutral, careful to make sure that the two men did not notice any inkling that she was scheming.

She gripped her Keyblade and brought it closer. _I break the bond between us_ , she said to it in her mind. She couldn’t have it where she was going, and to fall into the wrong hands would ruin everything. It disappeared.

Her voice was shaky. “You said you would release him? Prove it.”

Xemnas approached Terra, who was still sitting unresponsively on the boulder, and summoned what seemed like a portal.

Aqua swallowed a lump in her throat, an incredibly difficult feat for her. “I agree to the trade,” she said quietly.

The young man looked over to Xemnas, as though he was a bit surprised to hear that. “And I had expected that this was going to be much more difficult. They said you were strong and stubborn.”

 _“I am strong.”_ She whispered as quietly as she could to herself so that neither of them would hear. A promise to only herself. _“You will not have me.”_

The young man raised his Keyblade to Terra’s chest, and a light shone and expanded before he lowered it. Aqua scuffled towards Terra, resting her hands on his lap.

“Terra,” she pleaded, looking up to the face shadowed within the hood. She paid no mind to the other men around her. All she looked at was his face. A pair of yellow eyes. But it was still his beautiful face. _Please smile at me. Please be okay. Please be free._

“Terra, look at me. Please.” She sounded desperate, needing to see some reaction. Anything to let her know he was back before it was too late for her.

She felt a forceful heat come over body, like it was seeping into her skin, and she felt her limbs go numb first. He looked down at her, the first sign of movement that he’d ever shown. The last thing she saw was his yellow blending into green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!! It has been a rollercoaster to write, and I had to cut it in half anyway. I hope you guys have enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!


	2. One Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aqua was told it was a fair trade - her life for his. And it was, but now Terra has to pick up after the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s such a weird feeling to end a WIP. This is the third one I’ve opened, and the first one I’ve closed. I usually daydream about them until I put them into words. The outline had been collecting dust for a couple of months. After I’ve dusted it off, I decided not to change anything. Needless to say, I’ve been very excited to finally share this. I almost consider this as an AU to my other AU, with all the same headcanons and backstories for them that I’ve written out.
> 
> The reunion was done to Michael Giacchino’s “Locke’d Out Again” from Lost Season One.  
> The Wayfinder scene was done to Michael Giacchino’s “Departing Sun” from Lost Season One.  
> The second flashback to the end was done to Gustavo Santaolalla’s “Home” from The Last of Us.

_The only thing that would have made this night better would be moving closer to her. But asking for her permission to do so was a risk Terra never took.  
_

_The rain continued to patter heavily on the windows, and every once in a while lightning struck again. The lamp next to Aqua had been lit, and they rested the heavy leather book in between the both of them, a blanket draped over their laps. The rest of the lounge, a mixture of furniture, long desks, shelves of books and a wardrobe, was completely draped in shadows. She was close enough that her leg rested against his._

_For now, he was grateful to relish her proximity. He also felt safest when he made it difficult for her to determine his feelings for her, fearful of how she would react if she ever found out._

_“Ghosts will stay behind for any number of reasons. They may need to take care of unfinished business, or they could be in denial over their deaths,” Terra said, summarizing most of the chapter he had been reading.  
_

_Aqua rested her elbow on the backrest of the loveseat they were sharing, her head on her palm. She yawned. “That doesn’t sound so bad. When does it get dangerous?” she asked, rubbing her eyes._

_“They can haunt people if they are angry or resentful.” He wondered if there would ever be a point in his future career as a Keyblade Master that he would encounter one. “They can even get aggressive if they are enraged, or vengeful, or even possessive.”  
_

_She scoffed. “And the writer of this book came across enough of them to know this?”  
_

_His lips curled ever so slightly upward. “Did you know there is a world out there where there are undead pirates? It’s true. There was an earlier chapter about them.”  
_

_She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the same thing as a ghost. How do you actually know you came across one?”  
_

_He pointed to some lines in the book and read aloud: “A ghost, upon contact, will carry burdens and confounded memories of the life left behind. When one speaks, the manner will be cold, and their sentences garbled. A ghost will talk nonsense, leaving the living confused. It is a way to make certain that personal pain is felt by those left behind.“  
_

_“That’s horribly depressing.” She stifled a laugh rather poorly, which was usual. She always made fun of him for finding the strangest things to read from the library. But she never refused to listen to him talk about it.  
_

_“It gets worse.” It was fascinating, but heavy-hearted at the same time. “Sometimes the living can keep a dangerous ghost around because they get obsessed with their loss. Like, they’ll keep objects that used to belong to their loved ones with them at all times.”  
_

_“Ugh, Terra-”_

_“Hey, you never know. You might need this information.”_

_“Of course,” she said, her eyes fluttering shut. “Someday we’ll need to attempt a heroic rescue over some old lady who didn’t know she died.” Her voice cracked._

_“You’re very tired.” He mustered every ounce of his will to stop himself from sounding disappointed, expecting she’ll leave him for bed.  
_

_She slowly opened her eyes, the dim lighting from the lamp on his side reflecting off of them. They stared into his for a while. “Yeah.” She actually sounded discouraged over her own tiredness, and it was a lie if Terra pretended that his heart didn’t flutter in that instant.  
_

_Still, he shouldn’t be too forward. “Should I carry you to your room? Or do you want to camp out here like we used to do during the snowstorms?”  
_

_“First of all,” she said, smacking him on the bicep, “I can take myself back to my room... But yeah, let’s camp here.”_

_It was the better answer. _The lounge was one of the several rooms they’ve christened as spots for blanket and pillow forts when they were children._ Inside the wardrobe were a heap of stacked blankets. They spread them out and layered them right in front of the tall windows - enough to makeshift a spacious bed.  
_

_The rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon. Each time lightning flashed, it illuminated her silhouette, the way her chopped hair fell around her face. Most days, Terra was able to handle his ache to touch her just fine.  
_

_Tonight, he snuck behind her in some feeble attempt to scare her. As expected, her reflex to defend herself kicked in - she sent an elbow straight back, which he grabbed. She laughed, her other hand right on his as he wrapped his free arm around her waist. She never seemed to learn that tackling him using just physical strength was always futile. Being this close to her, he could faintly smell notes of vanilla and lavender. He threw her onto the blankets, her laugh the sweetest sound next to the rain._

 

* * *

 

The sky was painted in shades of bright oranges and deep pinks. Sunsets in Twilight Town seemed to make the sandstone that shaped the architecture stand out all the more.

To see light again - after what apparently had been thirteen years of pure darkness, with nothing to see or touch - was an indescribable feeling.

Hearing voices that weren’t Xehanort’s took a few days to accept. The smell of food was overwhelming. The sights were unbelievable. He had spent such long hours in darkness with nothing but repeating memories and dreams. Anything he saw in his mind those years was probably warped. Seeing color again made him weep with happiness for the first several hours. Best of all, there was no Xehanort left to speak of - at least not speaking to him in his head.

But that was the biggest problem. He woke up, and didn’t understand why or remember what led to it. He was left to die in the middle of a desert, with four furry legs and an inability to walk properly. He was saved by a talking meerkat and warthog who took him to an oasis. It was there he met a young lion by the name of Sora. It didn’t take long for him to meet others, like his most esteemed successor, Riku.

Terra would describe the two of them as saviors. They helped him retrieve his armor and his Keyblade. Kept him up to date with all of the latest happenings. Listened to him when he briefly spoke about his past. But it had been two days since Riku came back from the Realm of Darkness, from a mission to find her. Avoiding Terra was such an understatement to describe how often he refused to answer calls.

That left Terra on guard duty in this quiet, peaceful town, checking the communicator they gave him every five minutes to see if Riku had finally replied. He listed every possible reason why he was awake in the first place.

He also replayed memories to himself, since he had no friends to share them with. Sneaking notes to Ventus during their study time, unable to stifle giggles. Ventus would write back to him the worst puns. Aqua sat right by him, her brow twitching every time they laughed as she glued her nose to a book. Until she grabbed the essay she was writing and smacked Terra right on the head, begging for some peace and quiet.

She was the same as him, though - she failed to contain a giggle of her own. They spent their entire childhoods with endless teasing like this - it was the easiest way to get her attention. When he got older, he wanted more from her, attention that was different than what he was used to. It was possible that he probably could have received it if he had asked. But old habits just didn’t break.

To think that was thirteen years ago, and he spent those last few moments they had together by shutting the both of them out, going out on his own, and hiding a bunch of truths he should have, could have, and would have shared with them. He could have been sharing this beautiful sunset-lit view with them now. _  
_

_I didn’t even congratulate her for becoming a Master. I’ve ruined us._

He walked through the streets of Twilight Town, and checked his communicator again. Nothing. The buildings were tall, and it looked like magic was at work with the way the sun seemed to brighten every angle. Except for a hooded figure. So black was the cloak that it stood out like a mess of paint.

The hooded figure, a woman, saw that he noticed her, and bolted straight toward the forest outside of town.

“Hey!” He sprinted, following her into the trees, away from the ears of any civilian. She was lithe in her movements, almost floating in a way, using shadows to make her fly faster, to make her jump higher, to help her speed.

They reached a clearing, some decent patches of grass where thick tree trunks wouldn’t get in the way. She stopped and faced him, her hands melting into cascades of ever flowing shadows that seeped out from her long sleeves. Until they thinned out and hardened. He summoned his Keyblade, and she whipped.

The Master usually said that Terra excelled in staring down his opponents. In facing them with bravery. In analyzing their skills and preparing accordingly. The woman was a mage, a sorceress that utilized shadows that were able to bend to whatever she wanted them to be. She floated in the air, using mainly her whips for offense, at times trying to grab him. Not once did she say a word.

There were only two things that Terra needed to keep in mind: _do not fall to his knees, and do not keep his eyes away from his enemies_. 

Most of the fight was just a flurry of strikes that were blocked by others. But it was her dodging that gave him the first sense of unsettling dejá vu. He moved to slam her with his Keyblade, and she maneuvered a handless cartwheel to her left. A twirl here. A backflip there. Each dodge an opportunity she took to sneak up on him later. But each one was something he _almost_ expected.

What hurt the most were his obliques. He gripped them as leaned onto his Keyblade. At least he wasn’t thrown down.

He waited for an opportunity to hit, and it looked like she waited for the same. The smoky shadows that kept pouring out of her long black sleeves still formed those _annoying_ whips, but she kept them close to herself.

The woman made the next move. She flailed her right arm first before closely following it with her left. Terra maintained his defensive stance, blocking each strike as she continued to wail at him. He could feel that he was getting a bit more sluggish every second. So he darted the next strike and sprinted at her with all his might, raising the incredibly heavy Ends of the Earth to hit her as hard as he could.

She dodged, and dodged again. He stopped, and there they waited. Again, there was that itching feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something about the way she was moving. It was acrobatic. It happened at all the exact moments that never left him surprised.

He kept his Keyblade close and he breathed hard. What was worse than being this injured and fighting a new enemy this powerful was the thought that was threatening to leave his mouth.

And he didn’t have the strength to keep it in. “Aqua?”

The shadows didn’t exactly dissipate. They crawled right back into her sleeves, gloved hands forming in replacement. She started to remove the hood that was hiding her face.

The hand that held his Keyblade became weak. It felt like his face went cold, and he might as well be floating in the air since he forgot the pain he was under. Her hair had gone mostly white, save for the roots which were still blue. Her eyes were bright as always, but instead of bearing that enamoring azure color he kept a memory of all these years, they were amber. And they were furious.

All at once, Terra forgot he was breathing. He slowly walked forward, holding his hand out, but stopped himself short from touching her. She stood still, the look of wrath never wavering.

“I don’t understa-” He choked on a sob, and willed himself to hold it back.

She smacked her lips, and took a moment to respond. Her expression was fully unnatural for her.

“You understand _exactly_ who you’re looking at,” she said with a low voice, but with an intensity that told him she was ready to strike again.

Of course he knew. He was looking at a parasite, during its gestation. It almost felt like he was going to faint, his face losing all feeling. “Why?”

There were small micro twitches throughout her face - her nose, her mouth, her eyes. As if she was enraged by the question and tried her hardest to contain it.

After what felt like forever of her staring at him this way, she asked, “did you ever think of me all these years? Just once?”

Terra let out a harsh gasp. “Of course I did!”

She breathed in slowly. “Then what was I doing, sitting in the dark all by myself this entire time? Hm?” She cocked her head at that last _hm?_ But he had no proper answer.

Then she said, in a softer voice, “were the worlds safe the entire time I was gone? Was there a point to any of it?”

He shook his head slowly. His eyes burned and his throat constricted.

“And what were you thinking when you left us there to chase you around world-to-world?” she continued, her jaw quivering. “What was going through your head when you refused to come home?”

Again, he had no answer. She straightened her head, and strange sense of calm washed over all the movements that flooded her face before.

“You’ve ruined us,” she said.

Terra slowly dropped to his knees, leaning on his Keyblade. He stared at the ground.

“I know,” he said, failing to keep his voice steady. “Everything is broken, and I don’t know how to put it back together.”

He took in two breaths. She must been staring at him, because she didn’t move. He told himself to keep it together before speaking again. It was breathy, the way he said it. But it was the most strength he had.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

No answer. He willed himself to look at her, even though he was terrified of what he would see. Her brows were slanted harsher than before, her lips so pursed that she must have been grinding her teeth. Aqua never used to get this angry.

If this was the most frightening she would get, then the only terror left to face was to tell her the truth. As crazy as it was. All these years of saying nothing, though, only to hit him back where it hurt the most.

“I’m sorry I never told you earlier,” he said, his voice surprisingly calmer like he was ready for the execution. He felt his eyes soften, but he refused to cry. “I love you.”

Her eyes quivered and they watered. Her mouth relaxed into a the beginning of shock as her eyes went wider.

He prepared for an attack, but then her face changed. It became... cold almost, and her eyes glassed over, almost like she suddenly became a different person. She reached her hand into her pocket, and threw something so hard that it told him she hated him. It hit him in shoulder, and bounced onto the dirt.

Her bright blue Wayfinder.

 _Fair enough._ She slowly turned to walk away, leaving him and his unsteady breaths. 

What to say to make her stay?

“What about Ven?” he called out. There was no way she would abandon him. No way she would put him in danger.

She stopped, but refused to face him. It took way too long for her to reply, and it was impossible to read what she was feeling through her voice. “I don’t... _need_ you to find him.”

Aqua kept going, disappearing into the trees. For the moment, Terra didn’t feel much of anything. It seemed that his body responded by simply denying everything he had seen. He eyed the Wayfinder, the only spark of blue that is among this forest baked in sunlight.

The sound of crumpling leaves and twigs crept up behind him. “She dealt a stronger resistance than you did,” said a voice that was soft, but only mock-pleasantly so. “Either way, her ability to continually struggle with it usually turned toward our favor.”

It was a young man, seemingly younger than Terra, with white hair, dark skin, and bright yellow eyes. There was no denying who this was. Xehanort, but a teenage version of him. How this was possible was beyond Terra’s understanding - not that he was able to mull over the reasons right now. The shock of seeing such a face nearly put him in a stupor.

This Xehanort smiled - it was a smile that oozed superiority, and it was perpetually different from the way an older Xehanort would have done it. The Master was practiced in pretending. This one still had a long way to go.

Terra only stared at him. This Xehanort wasn’t the one who told him continually, all these years, how he was good for nothing. That it was all his fault. That there was no one in the world who wanted him around. Still, it didn’t matter.

“What are you talking about?” Terra said, trying hard to keep his voice steady. There was no way he was going to give this bastard the benefit of hearing him in pain.

Xehanort maintained a smile. “She isn’t as frantic about resisting it as you were. On some level, part of her desired it. I believe most of it was due to the fact that she can now remember what it is like to feel again, and that she is free to roam where ever she may please.”

Terra let out a scoff that melted into a laugh. “Just shut up,” he said calmly. “She would never have-”

“But she did.” A glisten in the eyes, like rubbing salt on a wound. “She traded herself, for _you_.”

Terra held his breath. He shook his head, very quickly, and didn’t allow himself to gasp.

“You were a liability,” Xehanort continued. “We thus sought a more proper candidate who was primed for the responsibility.” He crossed his arms, his smile widening just a bit more. “I don’t believe she understood exactly what she was getting herself into.”

“You took everything from me.” Terra’s voice shook now. He hated himself for it, and he gripped the handle of his Keyblade so hard that his knuckles turned white. Eraqus was dead. Ventus was still missing. Now Aqua was taken.

Xehanort pretended not to hear it. “So much unspoken and forgotten emotion.  This made her much easier to manipulate than-”

Terra lunged at him, the latter summoning a Keyblade that was unrecognizable. Another mage, just like the old man, but much more temporal. Much more willing to let himself be distracted by anger.

And without a foreign will to bend the mind, Terra was free to let loose any ounce of darkness he was still scarred with. It was like unlimited power, fed by a hatred so deep, Terra wished he could end him there - take the life of a teenager, and everything in time and space would reverse.

It left the young Xehanort disarmed and up against the trunk of a tree, with his shoulder lodged under Terra’s substantial Keyblade. Without magic, Xehanort was just as weak as any, unable to wrestle out of Terra’s grip.

“I’ll take her back,” Terra said, and this made Xehanort sneer through his nose.

The he heard her voice. “Let him go.”

She stood there, shadows snaking up along her cloak. She wasn’t in a stance to attack, but her voice demanded submission all the same.

Surrounded by two enemies now... although one of them was someone he would never fight again, knowing now who she was.

He turned to face Xehanort, and said, “the next you see me, you’ll be afraid.” His voice was so low, it was only meant to be heard by one person.

Terra ripped his Keyblade out of the trunk, and Xehanort stumbled a bit, breathing hard.

The least he could do was keep his eyes on the enemy - at her. She was still Aqua, maybe she would always be. But not right now.

She held his stare until her eyes started to tremble, and she was the first to break contact.

“We have work to do,” she said to Xehanort, before turning her back. The teenager didn’t look too pleased with her reaction, but he gripped his shoulder and followed suit.

They walked some distance, where another man in a cloak, who was fairly large and very tall, waited for them by a gateway made of shadow. This man also had white hair that was long enough to drape his shoulders. Most surprising was his face - Terra’s face. Aqua walked through the corridor without acknowledging this man, but the man followed her with his gaze, and it made Terra uncomfortable to witness. Xehanort also disappeared through the gateway, and the man eyed Terra one more time before going through himself.

Alone. A gentle breeze shook the leaves that still took refuge in the canopies. Terra realized he was still gripping his Keyblade with an iron will, but forcing himself to relax opened a dam of tears to pour from his eyes instead. He walked over to the blue Wayfinder, and fell on his knees when he tried to pick it up.

Terra let the tears fall, barely breathing. His chest hurt the most, and he told himself that he wouldn’t vomit.

He held the Wayfinder to his forehead. _When was the last time she truly smiled at me?_

The morning of the Mark of Mastery exam. They stood together, right before opening the back doors to the entrance hall. The sun shone so brightly through the windows. The mountains were still green from the summer season. She looked at him, and with two fingers, traced the shape of a smile on her lips. Her own followed, and whenever she smiled - when she was really happy - her eyes sparkled. He remembered smiling back, although it was lie to say he wasn’t nervous. They were silent. Then they graced each other with _good lucks_ and shook hands. It was the last time he had ever touched her, as well.

Tears continued to drip. He stroked the Wayfinder with his thumb, his nose stuffed up.

Peculiarly, he felt a nub at the back of the trinket. He flipped it to see a tiny, rolled up piece of paper taped there. He gently unrolled it, careful not to destroy the beautiful details she poured her heart into the creation of this star-shaped charm. The scroll was tiny and narrow, and it had three lines.

The first - her handwriting, soft and elegant:

_Find him. May your heart be your guiding key. You just need the right one._

The others - still hers, but they were scratchy, as if she was being tortured when she wrote them:

_It cannot break._

_It hurts so much._

Terra let out a breath, the last of his tears tracing his jawline. “I know it hurts,” he said out loud. “But you’re going to be okay. I’m going to fix this.”

With a refreshed bravado, Terra stood up quickly, and hustled back to the motel he was staying in. The sun was disappearing behind the horizon, and most of the sky was dark. He turned on only the bathroom light, so that the bedroom was illuminated by it and what remained of the sun. He placed the communicator on the dresser and made his way to the narrow standing mirror right by the windows. 

He began to undo the clasp that held the string of her Wayfinder together.

A question she asked him a few weeks before their Mark of Mastery exam rang in his mind...

_“Do you know what I would haunt you for, if I ever turned into a ghost?”_

_They laid next to each other that stormy night, on top of several blankets, with some pillows they took from the lounge sofas. She was on her side, facing him, while he opted to rest on his back. Close enough to touch each her, and damn, he wanted to.  
_

_He allowed a half-smile. “No, what?”_

_She rolled onto her back. “The fudge cake you rejected for your sixteenth birthday.”  
_

_“Oh please-”  
_

_“It had multiple layers-”  
_

__“I already apologized for that-_ “  
_

_“And I worked so hard on it-”  
_

_“It’s not that your baking is bad. Far from it. I just needed a change of diet.” He scoffed and added, “I still ate it, anyway.”  
_

_“I even put strawberries on top.” He could see in the dark that her smile was smug._

_Terra snarled. “I’d haunt you for driving me crazy.”  
_

_She giggled and rolled back to face him. Her eyes were just as beautiful and bright at night. “But seriously though,” she said, “we should make a pact about this. And it should be a serious one.” She thought for a moment. “Hey, why did we stop making blood oaths?”  
_

_He laughed. “You forgot about that? We decided that it hurt too much to prick our fingers for everything single stupid thing. We were doing them for reasons like saving each other from being stuck on a tree.”  
_

_She snorted. “I think when you’re eight or nine, being stuck on a tree is a scary enough ordeal.”  
_

_“We still made pacts, though. We agreed to replace them with pinky shakes.” He smiled at her. “Don’t you remember? We said they meant just as much.”  
_

_“Okay then. Let’s promise to save each other’s souls if we ever turn into ghosts.” She held out her pinky finger. “What do you say?”  
_

_He gazed at her for a moment, and lightning struck. He wished he could hold her by the waist to bring her close to him.  
_

_He hooked her pinky with his own. “I guess you’re worth the trouble.”  
_

... Terra wore the Wayfinder around his neck. Its bright blue stood out against the earthy tones of his clothes. He placed his hand on his sternum, underneath the trinket, as he stared at the mirror. It felt light on his chest, sitting close to his heart.

From her peripheral, a small light blinked from his dresser. A message on his communicator. It was Riku. The message said that Sora found a Keyblade washed up on the beach of their home world, and Riku asked if they could come together to investigate it.

Terra looked back through the windows, seeing that the sun left a sliver of red along the horizon. The stars were bright. He reached up to touch her Wayfinder again, and stepped out of the motel to summon his glider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this! Especially to those of you who stuck by this particular story. The mention of the Keyblade that Sora found is essentially inspired by the multiple theories that were popping up all over the place over the very first trailer for Kingdom Hearts III, where Sora found Eraqus’ Master Defender on the beach of Destiny Islands - possibly hinting that Aqua was severed from it when she turned into Aquanort. Most of these theories say that it’s the key to finding Ventus - since it would be terribly out of character for her to put him in such danger. I just wanted to play with a tragic love story. I hope you guys enjoyed this!!
> 
>  
> 
> **YOOO guys so I have gotten a couple of requests to expand this story and include Terra saving Aquanort from this state and them reconciling. I'm opening this up to see if you guys want to see this as well, as I'm still trying to mull this over. Thank you!**


	3. This Little Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freedom was supposed to come with the taste of food, the enjoyment of music, the thrill of romance, and the promise of dreaming when she slept. It was supposed to hurt less. It was supposed to make the thirteen years she wasted waiting in a shadow world worthwhile. Before, her life was a meaningful sacrifice. Now it was just a mockery. An Aquanort perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is confused about this, it’s because I’ve been given requests to cover Terra saving her from her Aquanort state, and for their reconciliation. So the first thing is to cover Aquanort. This fic gave me two unique challenges: one, to keep on the theme of the song it’s named after, over a lover taking far lengths for his loved one, and two, to make this as different as my longfic as possible. I want to be able to give people a completely different experience with this one.

_The day was bright, yet cool. Each time the wind gently coaxed the leaves to rustle up among the trees around her, and each time she caught sound of the spring near her give way into a creek, she counted her blessings. It was hard not to be reminded of how small she really was when taking in the grandeur of the mountain she lived in.  
_

_She normally didn’t feel this way in this specific clearing – this secret spot in some crook up against a cliff side she and Terra shared all for themselves. Normally speaking, they’d get lost in conversation about anything, really. Secrets they’ve kept. Frustrations over their training or their education. Things they wouldn’t tell Ventus. Or they would spar, and talk about ways to improve, what they did wrong, what they did right. In other words, they’d get lost in each other’s worlds in a safe place like here._

_Not that she minded. If anything, she would have wanted to get lost with him in more intimate ways, but the yearning was the price she paid for having a crush on her best friend. Which was not something she dared to damage. She reminded herself to feel grateful that they were even together, right now, as opposed to Terra sharing this moment with someone else.  
_

_Or maybe she was forcing herself to wander about some existential philosophy over nature just to snap herself out of being distracted by the way he was sweating. Because he really did look handsome that way, taking huge gulps of water from his ceramic jug. It wasn’t a bad life, gazing at him each time they practiced._

_“We should fight for stakes,” she said, without letting him finish his drink._

_Terra lurched forward, salvaging the tremendous swallow he took. He didn’t have his armor on, and she had removed her shoes and stockings. They were both barefoot, for today they practiced hand-to-hand martial arts. Kicking pads were gathered in a pile nearby._

_He gave her a smug grin. He’d never back down from a competition. “Why bother placing bets when you’re going to lose?”_

_“Excuse me? That is a bold assumption,” she said, smiling.  
_

_Terra was by far the only person in the multiverse she would ever tolerate such condescending language from. Only because he truly didn’t mean. She knew he respected her. But she played the rivalry just as hard. It left her wanting to correct him, and she got a kick out of it.  
_

_“No, it’s a bold assumption coming from you,” he said, closing the jug with a spork and resting it at the base of a tree. “You always lose when we’re fighting close combat.”_

_“That’s not true.” It sometimes was. Terra had the advantage being tall and strong, after all. But only sometimes. “How about this? Whoever wins gets to ask for anything.”_

_Terra turned just to look at her. A look of disbelief, followed by amusement. A scoff, as if he really couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  
_

_She wondered what he would ask for.  
_

_If she was going to be honest, she wondered what it’d be like if she asked to kiss him – if he agreed, it meant that he shared the same feelings, and she wouldn’t have to play brave anymore._

_“The first to land on their face loses,” he said. “I hope you like the taste of dirt.”_

_Lose to see what his deep wish was, or beat the crap out of him because he assumed she would fail?_

_Terra prepared his stance, knees bent and fingers in a snarl. His usual method was to stay grounded. To overwhelm his opponent with the sole purpose of pinning them. To grapple them. It was a defense strategy that was supported by how often he was aggressive. Terra was a relentless fighter, and without magic, she was quite disadvantaged. She had to rely on her agility and grace to tire him out, or trick him into anticipating something else. To evade his movements so that he would lose the upper hand._

_The only rule they abided by was to never hit each other in the face or the head. Sparring wasn’t the time for terrible, avoidable accidents._

_Aqua swung a kick, torpedoing herself right toward his midriff. He grabbed her foot. Immediately she constricted her core, summoning all her gravity to the lower regions of her abdomen, pushing her weight on the leg he took hostage, and willing the other left standing on the ground to whip another kick._

_He let go, and she landed on her feet, though deeply squatted._

_In a rare move, Terra leapt into the air, flipping over her in an attempt to smash her into the grass. She dodged, and swept a low kick in an attempt to trip him. He only really stumbled onto one knee before standing back up._

_Now she was in trouble. She back-flipped and followed it with cartwheels to give herself some space, though it was simple for him to close the gap. Relentless._

_So she changed direction, leaving him to pivot and attempt to gauge what she was doing.  
_

_If she was going to win, she had to play dirty. She jumped, and he fell for it. He brought his hands higher, as if to grab her, and she aimed for his ankles. He fell on his side and rolled flat onto his stomach._

_It took a second for her to realize she won.  
_

_Before he picked himself up, she helped herself to lay right onto his back, kicking her feet up and keeping them together, just like a mermaid tail. Probably the daintiest way to pin an opponent, but it gave her an excuse to feel the pronounced muscles on his back.  
_

_“How does the dirt taste?” she asked, leaning forward so she was close to his ear.  
_

_She bit her lip. He smelled of sweat, which was to be expected. But there was also the smell of his skin, which echoed through his hair. It had a nutty aroma, with a bit of yeast to it. And it was the most amazing smell. Better than the sandalwood soap or shampoo he used._

_Face still on the ground, if he felt how much she was grinning, it showed with his tone. “You win,” he said, clear as day._

_“I’m sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” Her cheeks hurt from how much she was grinning._

_He turned slightly, the iris of his deep blue eye reaching as far as it could to look at her. There was a constrained smile on his face, and it was the most readable expression. He knew she was savoring her victory, and he was a sore loser. “You win.”_

_He attempted to get up, but she was still on his back. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling, and it was contagious enough that he grinned wider.  
_

_“Get off of me,” he said, nudging a shoulder so she rolled onto the ground._

_The grass was soft and cool on her back. She had forgotten already that there was a breeze, and she watched as the leaves danced to a song of their own._

_Terra crossed his legs, and held one knee up.  
_

_“What do you want? Some chores done for you?” he asked with a sigh. Yep. He couldn’t believe he lost, either._

_She could be brave and ask for it. It wasn’t like she didn’t suspect he had feelings. Sometimes it was the way he lingered at her. Most of the time it was how loyal and deeply affectionate he was, even when he wasn’t meaning to be.  
_

_Or maybe she was reading him wrong. Every time she gave him a stupidly obvious sign that she was interested, he always backed out. Always.  
_

_She considered herself a brave woman. Funny how this was the one thing that scared her the most. Dammit, if only he won._

_“We exchange chores all the time…” She watched as his nose wrinkled a bit, his smile forced. “You’re humiliated,” she said.  
_

_“No.” He said it with so much effort, it told her he was also trying to convince himself.  
_

_“Well, let me humiliate you some more.”_

_Among the jagged, rocky foundation on the cliff side was a small conclave where they kept a chest. Inside were old toys they couldn’t detach themselves from. Blankets for camping, A hammock.  
_

_And a white, leather-bound book with delicate gold borders, wrapped in tarp. They had filled it over the years with recipes they made up (mostly disgusting ones), rules for games they have created, drawings, and secret messages._

_There was also a message he wrote, tucked in the middle pages, where he claimed that they would always be best friends. She shared her first kiss with him over that, because she didn’t know how to respond to it otherwise.  
_

_“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” he said behind her._

_She could have made him read it..._

_If she was brave. She instead scanned through the beginning pages. “There is an oath you wrote in here. I made you write it the very first time I won a fight. You don’t remember?”_

_“No.”_

_That had to be a lie, too._

_She smacked the page with a finger. “Here.” There was a scrawl with large, mismatched handwriting by two children younger than ten years old. His was scratchy and messy. Hers large and curved._

_He grabbed the notebook, and shot her a side-eye. “You want me to read this?”_

_“Out loud of course.” She stood close by his shoulder, rolling her lips inward._

_He groaned, like someone too shy to give a speech. He read:_

_“I hereby swear today that Aqua can and will continue to beat me at fighting._

_If I ever doubt her again,_  
I will rub mud into my armpits,   
eat worms,   
and hold bear dung in my hands-”

_He finished that last passage like a question. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this,” he said._

_“You used to find the dumbest things funny.”  
_

_He shot her another side-eye, and pointed to the page. “You wrote the next part.”_

_She bit her lip. “It’s also the most important part. You have to read it.”_

_He sighed, and read:_

_“The next time Aqua beats me,_  
I will call her Queen,  
do all of her chores,  
brush her hair,  
let her win all the games we play,  
and give her all the sweets she wants.  
Cross my heart and hope to die.”

_Aqua dodged his glare, not putting any effort to hide her brimming smile._

_“Are you satisfied?” he asked._

_“Yes.”_

_He slapped the journal closed and handed it back to her. “So is all of that what you want me to do, your Majesty?”_

_She wiggled the notebook playfully in her hands. “No, servant. I relinquish your debt.”  
_

_Her giggles kept escaping her mouth as she wrapped the journal back into its tarp while he washed his face in the spring. Now that it was put back into its place, Aqua was left lingering at him from behind. He rubbed the water all over his neck, and ran through some of his hair.  
_

_As if that was the most efficient way to clean himself after how much he sweated.  
_

_There were better ways.  
_

_She tackled him, and they both fell into the water. From below her, Terra swam and reached out in an attempt to tickle her. She kicked her legs around, using her arms as a shield to protect her sides._

_On the surface, they held onto the rocks that bordered the water. His eyes were the same color as the depth beneath them. Neither had picked themselves up onto shore, waiting for the other to leave the spring like they were planning ambushes._

_Terra wiped his face. “Since you’re in such a pranking mood, you should go first.”_

_“And put me in the front line? The Master always said to watch your back for enemies. Don’t be grumpy just because you didn’t expect me to throw you down. It’s another win for me.”._

_“Exactly. You are the danger.” He gestured his arm. “After you.”  
_

 

* * *

 

The sunset was a mix of soft oranges and pinks, and it made the stone castle look like it changed colors throughout the day. Musicians played their lutes, citoles, and fiddles, keeping a huge crowd in the town square. Women in long dresses, men in their best hats, and little girls with flowers in their hair all gathered for the preparation of the princess’ birthday here in the kingdom of Corona. When night fell, the entire kingdom would set off sky lanterns.

Aqua stopped by booth after booth, trying to find at least one source of entertainment that would last her a while.

She couldn’t dance with the others, for the music did not inspire her to. She couldn’t laugh or cry with them, because the plays were neither funny nor depressing enough. The sound of children giggling was the most foreign thing. They laughed like they were safe and unafraid, when she was right there among them, like a hungry phantom wearing a long black cloak.

A little girl approached her, and complimented her pale blue and white hair, saying it looked very pretty. She gave Aqua a bright pink gerbera flower to wear.

Aqua chose to adorn it. Not that it helped her feel beautiful.

Sitting atop one of the castle walls with her legs kicked out into the air, Aqua held a cheese pastry in her gloved hand, already having bitten into it. It tasted stale. Like everything in this world. Like everything in every world, really. Her head pounded, and she breathed evenly, waiting for it to pass. 

What was worse were the aches and shots of electricity that would flow into her limbs. Sometimes her fingers were in such pain that she couldn’t make a fist. Sometimes, her calves throbbed so much that she couldn’t stand or walk.

Freedom was supposed to come with the taste of food, the enjoyment of music, the thrill of romance, and the promise of dreaming when she slept. It was supposed to hurt less. It was supposed to make the thirteen years she wasted waiting in a shadow world worthwhile. 

Would any other stupid girl trade a numb existence for one where the promise of living dangled in front of her, in a distance she could never grasp? Before, her life was a meaningful sacrifice. Now it was just a mockery.

There was the target. The princess Rapunzel, adorned in a mass of flowers weaved into several braids. She was with a young man, and she relished the life on the streets. Enamored by the sights. Danced to the rhythms. Gazed into the eyes of the man she was falling in love with. 

Rapunzel felt life and Aqua was a witness to it.

This was the kind of life she had once dreamed about, having adventures and experiencing all of the emotions of being in love. Seeing someone else experience it instead really pissed Aqua off.

“It took some time to find you,” a voice said behind her.

The shadow vortex he came out of dissipated. Xehanort, although a younger version of him, stood by her. He eyed her pastry, but said nothing of it. 

Xehanort often tried to get her to speak, but she made sure to force him to pry talk out of her. Not that she wanted him to say anything - especially not after the complete failure of a mission that happened in Castle Oblivion.

“It’s nearly sundown,” he said.

“Yes, it’s nearly sundown,” she said slowly, making sure that sarcasm oozed out of her voice. “And cows go ‘ _moo_.’”

Becoming a Seeker didn’t help her understand him any better. Hating him was an understatement, and what she hated more was her need of him. He understood what was happening to her. He understood more about Kingdom Hearts than anyone else. And if she wanted out of this mess, she needed to help him summon it. And feel some real freedom. 

She swore that death was better than being in the Realm of Darkness. But death was also better than this.

“I take it you’ve experienced some pain from the day you’ve had,” he said. Always him to shove his finger exactly where it would annoy her the most.

“I’m fine.”

“If you need Vexen to take a look at your condition-”

“I don’t have a condition.” She paused at every word, making sure to pronounce each one. She grated her teeth.

“We should retire for the night. You can retrieve the target tomorrow.” How he managed to maintain such patience when he truly cared so little for her attitude is astounding.

No, it wasn’t astounding. He needed her just as much, now that she carried two hearts. “I want to see the sky lanterns,” she said. 

Xehanort mumbled something incomprehensible and sat down. She could feel his eyes gazing at Rapunzel with her lover just as much as she was.

His voice sounded like it was smirking all on its own. “Young love. At first, it’s impenetrable. At least that’s what a person struck with it would say. And it is so when the weather is fair. But as soon as a storm comes, how fickle is the heart of a man who couldn’t brave it. And he will run. Run away to solid ground so that he wouldn’t get swallowed by the waves. He’ll justify her drowning soon enough.”

Her heart beat hard at his words, and it was like taking a drill into her chest. All of it made her think of Terra.

Thirteen years she had pleaded with some force out there - that the stars, or some heaven’s light, or _something_ out there would be forgiving to her. Begging that Terra would one day get her out.  

It wasn’t a mistake she landed in such a place. She did it for him. 

She prayed that the Realm of Darkness wouldn’t take away memories of him. 

How often she made her pain about him and him and him and him.

And she traded the Realm of Darkness to carry the heart of Xehanort, for his sake. 

Now it hurt worse.

She wanted him to know how incapacitated it was to feel like she was on fire every single day. All for him. 

She wanted him to know exactly how long she sat in darkness waiting for nothing. 

She wanted to shake this information into his being, to beat him until the pain on his skin throbbed as much as her insides every single morning she woke up.

And when she had the chance to do so, he bowed down in humility and told her he loved her. 

He was someone who didn’t need to be persuaded to feel ashamed or sad for her. A perfect little specimen of a gentleman. 

So then what, she loved an angel?  Was she not good enough for his savior’s light all this time? Was she ugly now, like some slimy creature that crawled out of a swamp? Was she supposed to forgive him, when there was no purpose for the thirteen years she spent alone? Where was her damn angel when she needed him? 

In the end, she was simply a stupid girl who did things because she was in love, and it left her with endless nights. Alone.

She was now sitting on a castle wall in a foreign world, on the urge of crying, knowing that the only person who could stop it shut a door in her face that exact morning.

 

* * *

 

It was an empty, cold castle. The second floor was just as vapid, and it all smelled of nothing. The white color was sterile and immensely bright, as if this place didn’t know sleep. Castle Oblivion was truly nothing but a remnant of what it used to be. It was simply hideous, and it watched. All she felt were pairs and pairs of eyes on her, but each time she looked, all she saw was white. 

Were they tapping the walls and she couldn’t hear them? Did they follow her around? She couldn’t tell. Maybe they were invisible, but they were real.

She told herself that her little brother was worth the discomfort of being around here. When she would wake up him, his smile would make it all better. Aqua did not consider herself dangerous to Ventus – if anything, now that she had so many powers and she was stronger than ever, she could protect him. She had the ability to destroy anything that would threaten him, so she knew she could take care of him.

All she had to do was wait. Ignore the eyes until Terra eventually came. And he did, walking up the stairs with pride and defeat, carrying their Master’s old Keyblade in his right hand, and her bright blue Wayfinder around his neck. That one little star was the most colorful thing in the entire castle.

“So the lost son returns with his father’s honor. How quaint,” she said at his arrival.

Terra took a sharp breath, his eyes wide. “’Quaint?’ You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Myself?” She nearly screamed, and she stormed up to him. “You think you have the right to know what I’m supposed to sound like? I’ve spent thirteen years without you, and you don’t know a single thing about _anything_ I’ve done that entire time.” She grabbed his shirt and pulled it. “It _hurt_ ,” she snarled.

His eyes softened. His lips quivered. He was a sad, pouty angel, who looked down on her with pity. 

She could have asked him to end her life. He had the Keyblade to do it. He had the power and the strength to pull it off. She gave up her life for an angel, so then why shouldn’t he give her the peace she deserved?

Or maybe she didn’t deserve it at all. She stared at her Wayfinder. It was pretty - the first pretty thing she had seen since she gave it up. And she was selfish enough to want it back. 

But she didn’t ask for it. She loved him for the man he became, even when he became the sort of man he said he wouldn’t. Now it was her turn to be exposed to that sort of scrutiny, and this wasn’t the version of her he loved in return. She didn’t have the merit for her Wayfinder anymore.

Terra held her bicep with his free hand, and it was a gentle touch. “There’s nothing I can say that would take the past away, I know that,” he said softly, as if scared that she would snap. “I’m here to save Ven.”

“I want Ven safe, too,” she barked. “I still care. I _survived_ just to see him wake up.”

He nodded, careful to stroke her arm with his thumb. “I believe you. But I don’t know how to get to him.”

A truce for the sake of the one innocent person left in the world. She let him go and approached the door that normally would lead to the next floor.

“I’m the only one who can summon the way to his room,” she said. “But I need that Keyblade to open it.” She pointed to her Master’s Defender.

“So you just summon and I open. It’s that easy?”

She scoffed. “No, I have to give something up. A memory.”

Terra flinched.  “You’ve given up enough. Let me take care of it.”

“You can’t,” she said with a spiteful smile. “I’m the one summoning the door.”

He clenched his teeth. “This isn’t fair.”

“What should I give up this time?” she asked the castle, certain the eyes heard. “The memory of my first kiss?”

“ _Aqua_ ,” he groaned, as if he had burned deeply, his eyes getting just a bit watery. “It already hurts to see you this way. It hurts to think about all you’ve done for me. And it’s too late for me to do anything about it.” He searched her eyes in earnest, as if to make sure his message was sent across. “None of this is fair on you. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

She was apprehensive at first, to take his word as some truth he felt. There was a risk that she was going to be led on by more false hope, which bartered for a high price. But she was too weak, and too desperate.

“Would you help me, then?” she asked in a hushed whisper, in case the castle heard her. She wasn’t even sure who she was betraying by such a question.

“Of course,” he said just as softly. “When it’s all done, I promise I’ll help you.”

Her eyes watered and she whimpered as she brought her hand to her head. Crying burned, like a fever that set itself free. It was best to stop. She brushed him off when he asked if she was okay, and focused on the door. 

She thought about her first kiss with Terra, after reading his message that they would be together forever. _Best_ _friends_ , he wrote, when that didn’t suffice what she really felt. It was sweet and short, the taste of him peculiar and different. She remembered she felt excited and scared, although she couldn’t recall how that even felt like.

At the time, she didn’t think much of it, since it was innocent enough. Until she got older and put words into what she was feeling. That kiss held so much more meaning after. 

But it wasn’t just this one memory she was giving up. Vexen had warned her that all the associated memories would break the links that bound them together, and she would soon give up several of them that were connected.

She didn’t say any of this to Terra, because it would make him sad. She knew she was a fool for thinking about his feelings when it was really her that was losing something precious.

The door itself didn’t change. It merely changed within, and she felt the shift, like the castle was adjusting a puzzle. Instead of a staircase to the next floor, behind that door was now a room that hadn’t seen a visitor in years. 

Aqua stood there, staring at the knobs, unsure of what she was thinking about earlier. 

It wasn’t painful to lose a memory per se. It only slipped her mind, like something was desperately hanging at the tip of her tongue. But she couldn’t figure it out. 

Perhaps it wasn’t that important, if she couldn’t remember.

She didn’t use words to plead with Terra to open it. Her breath was heavy, and she squirmed, waiting for him to use the Keyblade. It was finally time to wake Ventus up. Whatever she lost didn’t matter anymore.

“The first thing I want to see is Ven’s smile,” she said, hoping to hear another promise from him, even when the back of her mind warned her that all promises from here on out were false.

Terra flashed his sight behind her, as if he noticed something. She spun around, expecting to be crept up from behind. It didn’t matter from what side that person would be loyal to. What was an ally to one of them was an enemy to the other. But no one was there.

Terra refused to look at her in the eye at first. When he finally did, he was painfully slow to do so. He shook his head, as if silently apologizing. 

“Aqua… I can’t let you get near him.” 

Before she could reply, Terra stepped back. A boy she recognized, Riku, poised for attack. Silver-haired and nearly as tall as her, he rushed her out of the doorstep, with swift and sharp attacks that kept her far back from the door. His attack pattern was furious, and she was so distracted by needing to get to Ventus that she barely paid attention to him. She slipped. Relentless. 

She saw the bundle of blonde hair, sitting atop a throne she left behind so many years ago, when the door opened. Terra wore a look of regret on his face, catching her eyes.

If it was painful for him, too, she didn’t care at that moment. This couldn’t happen to her now, not after all these years. Not when he said he would help her. Ventus was just _right there_.

“Just let me see his smile,” she begged, sprawled on the floor while Riku watched her with his Keyblade aimed at her face. “Please.”

Terra trembled heavily, like he couldn’t decide if she was dangerous or not, before breaking their connection. He shut the door tightly. She screamed, and it echoed off the walls so much that she was sure whatever watched her squirmed away.

 

* * *

 

Aqua hoped tonight would fare better. That it would help ease some of her pain by seeing the sky lanterns float up, like new stars traveling leisurely to where they were supposed to go. It was the kind of event she dreamed of sharing with Terra and Ventus, in some era long ago. But she knew better now. After all, she had dreamed that her life would turn out much different after becoming a Master. 

It was dusk. Her fingers in her right hand were stiff, and movement came with an overwhelming shudder that ricochet up her upper arm. Some part of her wanted to take the glove off, just to see if her hand had gotten worse. 

She pinched the leather fabric at the tip of her forefinger, but she didn’t pull it off. What was underneath was ugly, and it would upset her.

There was also, of course, the hair. Slowly, it turned whiter and whiter, nearly removing what made her unique. She used to have hair like her mother’s: blue, long, and wavy. The same bright sky-blue eyes. 

Everyone in town used to say that she looked exactly like her mom.

Maybe it didn’t matter what they said anymore. Those comparisons stopped the day of the fire. She sat in her classroom, working on some math problems, when some of the children sitting near the window dawdled at something. It attracted all of the other students to huddle near it, watching a thick pillar of black smoke rising up beyond the forest and fields in the horizon.

She didn’t know it was her parents’ house until the deputy said they were never coming back again. 

She was alone, until the day a burly older man with a bushy moustache and a scar on his face appeared in her world. With him was a young boy with tanned skin, a small smile, and eyes such a dark blue that she used to compare them to the river. Until she saw the ocean for the first time.

It never really occurred to Aqua before that she was destined to lose a family for the second time. 

She took another bite of the cheese pastry, now cold and hard. But it didn’t taste that way. It was acidic, extremely sour to the mouth, and it burned to swallow it. She choked and whimpered, her throat swelling that she couldn’t breathe. Xehanort grabbed her, patting her back and encouraging her to let go until she coughed it out.

“What’s in it?” she asked. Did someone poison it while she daydreamed? Did she poison it herself?

He took a bite of the pastry himself, and nodded as he chewed. “Cheese,” Xehanort said, sarcastically. “It’s delicious, actually.”

Aqua took a few moments to process what he said. “I can’t eat anymore?” Her voice pleaded, hopeful that he was going to deny her assumption.

“We have theorized that your body will find a way to sustain itself on its own, with no need for human supplements,” he said, enjoying another bite. “Very much like a Heartless. Once you finally adapt, you’ll be strong and unstoppable.”

Heartless, she didn’t care for. She stared at the pastry, slowly disappearing with each nibble, wondering about the taste. Maybe it was a cheese blend. Maybe it was smoked before it was baked. Or perhaps it was lightly sprinkled in salt and sugar. Was she going to yearn for dessert the rest of her life?

Was there anyone else in the world that understood this feeling other than monsters? 

Whoops and hollers were heard from beyond. It was time for the sky lantern ceremony. Xehanort stood up quickly, as if desperate to end his boredom.

Aqua scrambled to roll over, but the piercing pain in her thighs wouldn’t let her move. They constricted, and it felt like they were being twisted around in a circle. She winced, and yelped, attempting to push herself up. She just wanted to get to the other side of the castle wall, to look over the sea and the people gathered in boats, and she dragged herself with her hands to get there.

Xehanort sighed exasperatedly, seeing her try such futility. But he did nothing to help her. If anything, he probably wanted to use this as an excuse to get her back to what he called home. 

A shadow formed behind him, and out stepped an incredibly tall and barrel-chested man with his cloak hood up.

Xemnas removed his hood, and Aqua flinched at seeing him. His face was too close to Terra’s. The same eye shape, the same jawline and cheekbone structure.

Barely a few days after she arrived at the Castle That Never Was, which was sterile, eerily quiet, and spacious beyond necessity, Xemnas took her to a window on a rare clear night. To watch the stars from there, which didn’t have the same twinkle as the ones in the Land of Departure. 

“I suppose it is a blessing,” Xemnas said then, his voice smooth and mesmerizing, “that I would finally get to see the face to accompany the voice that toyed with me so. This reunion has me experiencing a sense of peace, and it is foreign. But fascinating.” 

He smiled at her. And it was unsettling to see such a beautiful face contort into something so ephemeral and malicious. As though he finally claimed the prize he’d been after.

He removed his glove to touch her bare hand, and feel the folds that webbed in between her palm and her fingers. He was warm, but his grip was firm.

“You feel peaceful?” she asked him.

“Indeed.” His fiery orange eyes carefully studied her hand, as if he was inspecting something he’d never seen before.

“Then where were you?” She kept her voice stern and cold. “You said you would come get me out, but you disappeared. You left me for dust.” Her voice quivered. “Why did you abandon me, friend?”

She had expected a roundabout response. “I died,” he said simply.

The spacious castle seemed to expand even more, and everything was spinning. “What?”

“You are part of a brotherhood now,” he said, locking his gaze with hers. Touching her cheek. “You are now a once and future target of Keyblade wielders. The boys you know as Sora and Riku succeeded in destroying me. It was never my intention to leave you. The teachings you once relied on for so long have not only abandoned you, but they will not tolerate your existence.”

He continued to tell her how he stood in front of her now. He was a visitor from a recent past, and her appearance here was proof that he was given a second chance to exist. That he could become whole again on the day Kingdom Hearts was summoned. And she would be free from the pain she was feeling.

She didn’t like the touch, and pushed his hand from her face. “What would you have done with me if you had freed me before?” she asked. He didn’t answer. “Was the plan to turn me into _this_?”

“It would have been a much different procedure,” he said.

“So you were never going to let me go? At least trading myself for Terra had some benefit-”

Xemnas grabbed her bicep, his hold tense, as though Terra’s name was an offense. None of the muscles in his face flickered, but the sudden movement was unlike him. 

“You’d be wise to select your companions with care,” he said. “I’ve chosen you. I’ve kept my solemn vow and freed you. He never once came for you, with the plethora of time he had.”

She knew this was true. But Xemnas wasn’t much better of a friend. “Touch me like this again,” she said, shaking his grip off, “and you’ll be lucky to have hands left.”

That ended the conversation that night, though a silent treatment wasn’t something either of them cared for. Threats and possessive attitudes aside, his mind games were things she didn’t bother giving much attention to. This kept her in control. As much as he was enigmatic, confused over the memories he had (some she recognized and some she didn’t), the Nodoby found purpose wanting to please her. 

As long as she kept Terra’s name to herself, Xemnas, the one person in the entire organization that everyone had a difficult time understanding, was easy for her.

On the night atop the castle wall in Corona, she didn’t want to see Terra’s face in him. She had enough pain for that day. She barely had the patience for her legs.

“Xemnas, I want to see the sky lantern ceremony,” she demanded, slapping a palm against the stone underneath her.

“She cannot walk,” Xehanort retorted.

“Someone tell _CAPTAIN OBVIOUS_ that I can hear him just fine,” she said, yelling so loud that they flinched.

Xemnas did not object to her command, cradling her in his arms. “As you wish, friend,” he said. It was like picking up a feather for him, his massive strength made apparent. It made her throat constrict more to realize this. She knew why but refused to name it. 

The sea was dark, reflecting all of the twinkling of the lights that it doubled the amount of what was out there. So far, Aqua felt nothing, but she waited for the lanterns to fly – maybe then she would experience some excitement and awe at the sight.

Rapunzel had a boat of her own, with the man she was with. They had that look. Aqua read about it in stories, and witnessed others who shared the same. Any moment, they were going to get closer, maybe even indulge in a kiss. Aqua couldn’t tell if she was angry at herself for being too afraid to ever kiss Terra for real, or angry with him for never understanding her and stepping forward on his own behalf. Skipping on such an experience was never a life she wanted to live.

The lanterns were let go in a smooth ascent, drifting upward, illuminating the sky. They even replaced the stars. 

But it was empty all the same, and she whimpered because she yearned for something more. What would it look like if they shared a boat together, under this view? What if he was there and kissed her that very night?

There wasn’t a point in daydreaming on wishes and what ifs. It was likely that soon enough she wouldn’t be able to feel anyone’s kiss on her lips anymore. But thinking of that boy and his ocean-blue eyes was an agony that made the pain on her fingers and legs pale by comparison. She wished Castle Oblivion took all of her memories away.

She buried her face into Xemnas’ coat, losing herself in the cologne he wore. It smelled of patchouli.

This gave both of the men the signal that it was finally time to leave. Through the dark corridor they went, before the ceremony was over. It was cool and familiar, so much like the feeling of being in the dark all those years. 

And best of all, the darkness was numbing. Her muscles slowly relaxed, like she was home. It was a wonder what life was like before she knew it.


	4. This Dream I've Freed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with what he has to do, Terra learns that darkness doesn’t matter when it comes to saving the one he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a long, long time. I haven’t been well, but I’ve been slowly recovering. I’ve poured a lot of my sadness into this one, and it’s been so relieving to finally finish it and put it out there. Here comes saving Aquanort. Next will be two chapters worth of reconciliation and introspection, and I honestly can’t wait to get to them.

_Terra couldn’t find Ventus, and if he did, he’d kill him._

_The back entrance of the academy was a large, open room. Long windows situated high on the walls above him embraced the room with so much sun, there wasn’t a shadow to be found except his own. Rough, sky-blue ceramic tiles led the way to tall garden gates. They were gold and elaborate in design that featured vines twisted from the center outward. And they were open. Ventus must have headed for the Master’s beloved gardens, which boasted the most colorful flowers in the Land of Departure._

_This back room had a number of large sinks mounted on the walls, normally spent washing off dirt and mud. It was often the case the three students explored the trails out in the fields beyond, and they’d be damned if the Master allowed them to dirty the pristine hallway floors within the castle. Terra approached one, and finally looked at himself in the mirror._

_He had already noticed most of the scrawls and doodles that were on his arms. Some of them were cartoonish monsters, inked in black marker. Others were teases and mean words. “Loser” in particular was huge, scribbled across the entirety of his forearm. A doodle of what appeared to be Ventus wielding a large sword was on the other._

_Worst of all was a three-worded sentence, written underneath his right tricep: “Terra loves Aqua.” Complete with a large heart bordering them. His most guarded secret on display._

_But the mirror showed him one more – a thin, curly mustache traced above his lips._

_“What happened to you?” he heard Aqua say, followed by a giggle. No doubt she saw the mustache as she flashed a half-cocked smile, suppressing a laugh. “You should grow out facial hair. It’d look good on you.”_

_His first instinct was to keep his tricep close to him, so that she wouldn’t see the incriminating evidence._

_“I was sparring with Ven.” He turned the sink on, and began to wash his forearms - though it was more important that he kept calm and collected so she wouldn’t suspect anything. “Him and his ridiculous spells.”_

_“Of course, it’s Ven we’re talking about.” She leaned on the edge of the sink, her free hand rested on her hip. “He used Sleep on the Master once, just so that he could procrastinate on an essay.”_

_“Tell me the Master still didn’t find out about that.”_

_“He never did,” she said uncomfortably, as if she was guilty for even knowing about it. “But you’re avoiding my question.”_

_“Ven cast Stop on me,” he said, eyeing the doodles, “and did all this while I was frozen.”_

_Aqua lifted her hand to her mouth to disguise her snort, but there was no way she was able to hide how funny she thought it was. Perhaps putting up with the doodles was worth it, just to see her this way: eyes squinting and watering, cheeks puffed, smile wide. Beautiful._

_Not that he could ever tell her he’d be willing to go that far to make her laugh. “Wait until he does it to you, and see how you’ll feel.”_

_She lifted her hands up, as if in surrender. “Okay, I’ll stop. I swear,” she said, a few straggling chuckles escaping her lips._

_He wiped his face with water, specifically with his left hand so the love message wouldn’t get exposed. “Well, if you see Ven, send him my way.”_

_“Ah,” she smacked her lips and shook a finger, which was expected. “That means I have to play babysitter and get in between you two.” She waved her arm dismissively when he flashed her a look of disapproval. “You’ll both thank me later when I spare you from being grounded. I won’t clean up after you guys, either.”_

_He knew why she would say that. The last time he and Ventus exchanged revenge pranks, the kitchen was destroyed. Explosive, ground shattering magic. Most of the evidence blamed Terra for the destruction, but the Master scolded Ventus for being provocative. They were both grounded and tasked with rebuilding it._

_“I’ll give him nothing more than a noogie, I promise,” he said._

_“Oh, please.” She made her way to the garden gates, her hand tracing their vinyl architecture. “Knowing the two of you, the library will be next.”_

_To her, it was probably nothing more than a typical day of preventing some accident. But he had surely averted a crisis as she walked away. Finally relaxed, he rubbed soap and water onto his tricep, the heart streaking black ink down his skin._

 

* * *

 

He stood up from his bed and immediately checked his nightstand - just to be sure it was still there, safe.

It was exactly where he left it before he went to sleep the night before. Her blue Wayfinder, perfect in condition and reflecting a bright radiance with its deep hue. Next to it was his own: broken, with a crack on one of the wings of the star. The silver border on that side was dislodged and severely bent, sticking straight out. He found it in this state the day he reunited with his armor, though he was grateful it wasn’t in worse condition from these odd thirteen years. As much as he treasured his orange Wayfinder, and as much as having it in his possession made him feel more complete, it really paled in comparison to hers.

For the last couple of weeks, he checked to see if hers was still there every single morning with the same desperation. He checked it every hour when he hung it around his neck - because losing it was by far a harsher reality than the one he was living now.

He sighed a breath of relief, and gazed out of his bedroom window at the mountains beyond. The sun didn’t shine as much as it used to in the Land of Departure. At least that was what it seemed to Terra. There was always a possibility that he didn’t remember it right. It was overcast, the clouds moving so slowly he was sure there was no wind blowing. It reminded him of the stillness in the castle - which he hated the most apart from the silence. Apart from the fact that she wasn’t here.

Terra flipped his legs over the side of his bed. Most of the castle had been destroyed the day the Master died, but his bedroom was as messy as it used to be. Like he left it on a typical day, and simply forgot to come back. His room was a relic: proof he had a life before Xehanort.

Clothes littered on the floor, across chairs, and stacked in corners. Papers scattered on the desk. Books hiding in random spots nearly everywhere. One particular book he had completely forgotten about: _The Tales of Robin Hood_ , which donned a withered cover depicting a fox and a bear wearing tunics and hats. They had bows and arrows, and excitable smiles, looking forward to whatever rich lion they got to plunder next. The pages were yellowed, undisturbed by anything but time and an obsessed nine-year-old boy who used to read it every month in his young life. Inside the cover as an unevenly written claim of possession: _This book belongs to Terr_ a.

Robin Hood was the perfect hero the people needed to free them from tyranny. Smart, resourceful, witty, compassionate.

A nine-year-old Terra dreamed of becoming a Keyblade Master so he, too, could help other people and live the same example.

A twenty-year-old Terra sat on the edge of his bed in his dilapidated childhood home, with nothing to show for it. 

It was with his own hands, after all, that the worlds were in danger. His body at worst was a weapon, at best was living its own life when Xehanort was in control of it. Like he was wearing a suit. Yet Terra remembered _nothing_ of these long years. He knew that Xehanort was the perpetrator for the hordes of Heartless that were threatening the entire multi-verse. Every person who has turned into a monster was blood on his own hands. But he didn’t know how often he tinkered in a lab. What kinds of chemicals he played with. Exactly what he did when he experimented on others. If he killed or tortured people. The clothes he wore. Who he talked to and what about. What he ate and if any of it made him sick.  When he slept and when he pulled all-nighters. If other people touched him. If other women were involved.

Terra knew he shouldn’t dwell on such thoughts, especially with no proof of the tinier details. But there came the cologne Xehanort would wear: a stench of patchouli, invading his nose. It didn’t matter how often he washed himself, somehow that smell always lingered. He already knew his body did things he didn’t want to do, and he didn’t need the reminder.

He grabbed her Wayfinder because under no circumstances would he leave the room without it. Gently placing it on his bathroom sink, he tore his clothes off and threw himself under the boiling water of his shower. He allowed his skin to burn away, hoping that this time it would stick. That all traces of Xehanort and that nauseating cologne would be incinerated for good this time. He scrubbed it raw, just to be extra certain. And he stood there, allowing the minutes to fly by as the water trickled down his skin, until he was convinced he was clean. Steam filled the entirety of the bathroom, and he only relaxed when the last sensations he felt were his own sweat coming down and the aroma of his sandalwood products clogging his nose.

His mirror was completely fogged up when he turned the water off. The skin all over his torso and arms was red from his scrubbing. But he was cleansed for now. The first order of business was to put on a clean shirt – this one a dark gray – before untying the clasp of her Wayfinder and drawing it around his neck. Its blue brilliance was flashy in comparison to anything he wore, but he was fine with that. This was the end of shower number one for the day – normally he would take three. Two if he was out for too long.

Finished and dressed, and with his bent orange Wayfinder in his pocket, Terra left his room and passed by hers. He knew it was better if he continued along and not go in. He knew it. But he couldn’t help himself – like a moth to a flame, he wondered if he preferred to torture himself, and opened the door.

Her bedroom, too, was untouched by anything.

She was always a neat and orderly person. Her desk was arranged and organized, books stacked neatly in a pile. Quills and pencils in their cases. Her work desk is mostly bare, because anything she had were stored in her drawers. A craft desk was right by it, and it was also tidy, with only a sewing machine to show for it and the rest of her supplies and trinkets organized in boxes.

She also fancied herself as the type of student that stayed out of trouble. Her dresser stood tall, no nicks or scratches into the wood like his own, because she actually followed the rules and never swung her practice weapons in her bedroom. On top of it was a collection of decorations, one of which was a sculpted dolphin that he made out of wood. He made it as a birthday gift. Maybe for her twelfth birthday? Or eleventh?

Her bed was made and the technique of it was pristine. As if she left early that morning, and would be back later that night.

Terra stared into her room. It was a fossil, sure, but proof that she used that sewing machine, and wrote essays on her desk. That he had a best friend growing up. He gently closed her door, caressing it as though it was precious.

Passing by Ventus’ room, he heard faint snoring. Peeking inside, he saw the boy sprawled out on his bed, one arm hanging off the edge, and the other thrown over his forehead. His breathing was deep and rhythmic through his open mouth, a bit of drool slipping out.

This bedroom could be best described as organized chaos: Ventus wasn’t a messy person, but his haven was a treasure trove of all the trinkets, clothes, décor, and gifts that Terra and Aqua had brought to him from their travels. One from each world they had visited. So while he had beads hanging from his lamp post, numerous tapestries covering his walls, and too many miniature statues propped on his desk, everything had a place. It was neat – just cluttered.

Ventus woke up the same boy he was thirteen years ago, unaware of anything that had happened. When he was told about what happened to the Master and Aqua, Terra found himself enduring crying fits and raging smacks on his chest. _What on earth where you doing all this time, Terra? How could you have let all this happen?_ Ventus had screamed that day. Turning Castle Oblivion back into the way it used to be was a silently awkward experience, and it took several days before Ventus could finally start to act his normal self again.

It didn’t take long for Ventus to say he was sorry. It was comforting to know that he wasn’t hated, but Terra knew he was at fault anyway, and didn’t think he deserved the apologies. But this was in the past now. Watching his little brother, sleeping peacefully as though everything was normal, was soothing. A member of his family was back home, safe. If Ventus could find an inner tranquility to sleep through the night, then maybe it was a good omen for what was to come.

Not that Ventus would ever let Terra walk away without whining about how annoying that was, if he was caught watching over him like that. _I’m not a child anymore, Terra._

The castle was so quiet that no other sound existed to smother any noise Terra would make, so he closed the door behind him as quietly as he could. Ventus could think he slept like a respectable adult today. A bullet dodged.

Days in the castle demanded too much attention and care. When they weren’t out doing missions or hunting Heartless, they spent their time fixing. And fixing. And fixing some more. But it was never enough, and the repairs were done too slowly to make that much of a difference.

The lounge area, where they used to spend time studying, hanging out, and making blanket forts together, had its outer wall completely blown open. The water damage from thirteen years’ worth of thunderstorms left behind veins of black mold that cracked through the plaster, and most of the furniture was missing.

Far too many rooms to count had the ceilings collapsed inside. The vast majority of the floors were cracked, so all of the tiles had to be replaced. Some of the outer towers were completely gone. They found one of them sprawled out over a waterfall some miles below, trees already growing through the rubble.

Some hallways, particularly the ones leading to the back of the castle, were blocked by rubble, though Terra has gotten far enough in clearing one of them. The main staircase of the west wing had also fallen completely apart, and they couldn’t use it to reach the upper floors. He passed by a cardboard box of paintings, all standing straight as if in a file. These paintings, all of them either gifts given to Eraqus by his friends or were heirlooms from Masters of the past, were displaced.

Terra could find new walls to hang them up – but that meant it wouldn’t be home anymore. Home meant that these paintings were to be hung where they used to be. Anywhere else was a poor excuse of one. So they sat there for now, waiting to return to their proper places.

The Master’s study was spared from any real damage, though it looked as though an earthquake had shuffled it: bookshelves turned over, furniture out of place, dust and soot shot out from the fireplace. The messiest of all was the large, dark mahogany desk, with all the books, letters, and scattered around as though the table threw its own contents out in a fit. The windows were thankfully still intact, overlooking the back area of the castle. The Master used to watch his gardens grow from here. Now, the gardens were overtaken with weeds and patches of dry dirt.

This room was the most important – Terra wanted to arrange it back exactly the way it was, but he had too much work ahead of him. It didn’t smell of the Master anymore, merely something that was empty and void of any real life. Yet despite the horrendous mess, it was still so familiar.

Terra could picture the Master sitting at his desk, the morning sun shining through the windows as he whittled away at another letter with his pen, a mug of coffee close by. Smiling up at him behind that bushy mustache, his voice warm and content.

 _Good morning, Terra._  
I hope your dreams were pleasant.  
May the rest of your day be brighter.

Eraqus always greeted everyone each day with that phrase. What Terra would give to hear it now.

He opened the Master’s leather-bound journal where he logged his daily messages. Eraqus had the most legible, impeccable form for handwriting, as though he made it an art of his own. His cursive strokes were carefully crafted over years of perfecting the technique, as though he made sure to respect every thought that passed through his own mind.

Terra had read the last three entries to his Master’s log several times – remnants of his final thoughts and plans the day of his death. To see if he could feel what the Master felt in those final hours.

He turned over several pages where he went through his own entries. His handwriting was scratchy and uneven, as though he stayed a child. He picked up a quill and dipped it into fresh ink, then gazed over to the message-globe on the desk. It was a magical object, with a curved base that held a spinning, metallic, semicircular apparatus, and a tight golden harp string down the middle. When plucked, the string set off a vibration that summoned the apparatus to spin and blur until a glowing sphere took its place. The Master used this for receiving and sending messages in private.

Since coming back to the castle, Terra logged inquiries, cries for help, and everything in between that was sent to the Land of Departure since the Master’s death. They served as notes for worlds he would visit, to see if he could still save them. He wrote the date for the newest entry, the sender of the latest message, and some notes.

This new message was the exact dispatch he’d been waiting for.

Terra knew that today was going to be different, but difficult. He’d better get started.

Hurrying over to the kitchen, he filled a pot with flour, beef broth, and salt, and started boiling. Terra didn’t memorize recipes for stews – they were simple enough to make. But it wasn’t like he made them as delicious as Aqua’s. Potatoes, carrots, and onions, but these barely did anything to add a complex taste, and Ventus had complained enough about the bland food. He sprawled out different seasonings and stared at them for a while after gently adding slabs of beef into the pot. Paprika, a sprinkle of it. Perhaps Aqua would have added more for flavor, so he dumped a portion. Then he cut garlic. She probably would have relied on these the most, so he cut some more. Peppers – the more, the merrier. A hefty sum of cayenne.

Anything to make it flavorful. Aqua would have poured a mouthful of spices, right?

The kitchen was baked in an aroma that burned his eyes when Ventus approached the dining table.

“Morning, buddy,” Terra said. He tried to sound cheerful, and hoped it was successful.

Ventus mumbled an attempt at a greeting while rubbing his eyes, and waddled over to his chair.

Terra added a small amount of milk and stirred into the stew in order to tame it, before pouring a bowl of it in front of his friend. “This will certainly clear the sinuses.”

Ventus took one look at it. “Another stew.”

“I promise this will pack a punch.” Terra poured himself a bowl and sat at the head of the table. A pause. He wanted to at least start the day right. “I hope your dreams were pleasant, Ven. May the rest of your day be brighter.”

It sounded unnatural, coming from his lips. He didn’t know if he should mimic his Master’s enunciations, or if he should give it his own personality.

Ventus gazed at him, giving a sad smile while he nodded to himself. “With practice, it will sound better.” He meant it as a joke, but it came out morose.

Teasing was good. It was a form of affection that was appreciated. But some things have changed since their reunion. Normally, Ventus would nag him about the constant showering, but he didn’t.

He never teased about the fact that Aqua’s Wayfinder was always found around Terra’s neck, either. Terra didn’t take this as a sign of resentment, but one of respect.

The two boys picked at their food, the clash between spoon and bowl ringing in the hushed dining room as they slurped. Ventus sniffled, the intense amount of spices making his nose run.

There wasn’t an easy way to bring it up – the conversation about “ _the plan”_ was one that usually got tense. The Master would be entirely disappointed with what they were aiming to do. Lectures of how imperative it was to protect people, and how forbidden it was to _ever_ use the Keyblade against the heart of another lingered in his mind. It was a path to darkness, but it was their best shot at getting her back. The best course of action, then, was to just get it over with.

“I got a message back from Yen Sid’s tower,” Terra said. “The good fairies agreed to meet us at Enchanted Dominion.”

Ventus shot a look up from his bowl, his attention caught. “Okay. But why there?”

Terra swirled his spoon into his stew. “I need to apologize to Princess Aurora,” he said slowly. They knew what he was talking about, and neither of them were going to go into detail as to why. “I also need to ask her a few questions.”

“To execute the plan,” There was a sense of bitterness in Ventus’ tone. He wasn’t alone, because both of them hated what they were going to do. “So I’ll just train with the fairies there?”

Terra took a long breath, looked at his friend straight in the eye, and kept his voice low. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It isn’t pretty, seeing Aqua the way she is.”

“I want to help.” Ventus leaned forward with a fist on the table, his eyes glaring with determination. “I need to.”

“Okay,” Terra said with a small smile. Part of him felt relieved. “You’re better with the tricksy stuff anyway. We’ll head out as soon as breakfast is finished.”

Ventus gave out a half-hearted chuckle, not used to being trusted so much. He must be anxious about it, too. He said so before. While he fiddled more with his food, Terra reached out and held him firmly on the shoulder, in a manner meant to be comforting.

“When you see Aqua,” he told Ventus, “make sure to smile at her. Can you do that for me?”

 

* * *

 

It was late afternoon in San Fransokyo when they arrived. The sun cast out a warm, orange hue over the vast metropolis, which normally would host millions of hustling people. But not today.

Today, Heartless and data corruption overtook the city, and the people have evacuated. Some citizens have equipped themselves with the machinery to fight back, and were flying across the skies as they battled against armies of darkness.

The young Xehanort was in town. This alone interested Terra, but what convinced the both of them to come after their excursion in Enchanted Dominion was a short message from Sora: _She’s here_.

Terra and Ventus tracked down the time traveler. And she was, in fact, there with him - down an empty street, blocks away from the warfare Sora was leading against hordes of large Heartless.

Sneaking through a nearby alleyway and hiding behind opposing dumpsters, they were still too far away to eavesdrop on what the two cloaked Organization members were discussing. Aqua had her arms crossed, not giving Xehanort much of the respect to look at him while she answered his requests. They talked on, as if they had no idea about the combat that was happening streets away.

Ventus, crouching behind his dumpster and looking over his shoulder, let out a sigh when he saw her. But he did well to keep those feelings in.

Her hair was nearly white now, but what was most unsettling were her facial expressions. Some were worn on her face with familiarity – boredom, anticipation, annoyance. But when she smiled, it was bizarre. It was devilish, it was cocky.

“Sometimes, I wasn’t sure which Aqua I was dealing with,” Terra said in a hushed voice. His throat was constricted, his heart pounding so hard it was about to burst out and bleed over. Even though he had seen her like this before, it was still just as unbearable as the first time.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I can’t tell if it’s Aqua, if it’s Xehanort… or strangely, if it’s both of them…” his voice trailed off. When he was the one possessed, he had no control. But there were still voices he heard in the darkness, constantly keeping him quiet and asleep, telling him to give up. Was it the same for her? Was she better at fighting them off, or was she constantly losing every day?

He held her Wayfinder, resting on his chest. “You know Aqua is a slow burner when she gets angry.”

Ventus shrugged, smirking. “Sometimes.”

Terra couldn’t help himself but let out a chuckle. “Well, this Aqua acts like she’s doused in gasoline. Any small thing you say can make her explode - if she sets off at all. Her moods change in seconds, and you never know how she will react.”

“You talk about her like she’s a completely different person.”

“I…” He stroked her Wayfinder with his thumb, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I’m not sure what to make of her, honestly.” He just wished she was back to normal.

A shadow grew and formed an archway behind her, an incredibly large man wearing the same robe stepping out from it. Shoulder-length white hair, dark-skinned, barrel-chested, more than a head taller than her, with Terra’s face.

Ventus leaned onto his dumpster and squinted his eyes to get a closer look. “Who the heck is _that_?”

The replacement. It was shocking at first, like seeing a mirror image but one that had a lifeform of its own. Almost like an out of body experience. But his expressions were different too. Terra was sure he didn’t look like that when he smiled.

Either way, this Aqua had a new Terra of her own.

“Ugh…” Ventus shuddered. “I hope I never get a clone made out _me_ , that’s creepy.”

He might have said that too loud. Aqua turned her head their direction, and they ducked back against the walls of the alleyway as fast as they could. They held their breaths, and inched their knees to their chests, as if to completely disappear behind the cover of the dumpsters.

They waited several seconds like this before Terra slowly inched forward, trying to hear if someone was approaching. Silence. He risked a peek.

“Sorry,” he heard Ventus whisper. “Did she see us?”

It seemed she hadn’t. The Terra-clone was moving his mouth, Xehanort attentive to his words. A half-cocked smile showed itself on her face, as if she found what he said only mildly funny.

Aqua said something, reaching her hand to touch the elbow of the clone. He gazed upon her, but this expression – _this_ one – was perfectly readable. He did his best to remain calm, but a creeping smile and a glint in his eyes showed that he relished her touch.

Terra could relate to what that felt like and whipped his head back behind the dumpster. Put simply, he couldn’t bear to watch her touch that man. Losing her to darkness was devastating. But Terra was certain that his chest became several pounds heavier, and that his heart was nearly choked out of him because he also lost her to a substitute.

“You okay?” Ventus asked. He was leaning against his dumpster, but he was watching Terra with such concern and sympathy. “They’re leaving.”

He told himself that he would survive this, and reluctantly looked over his shoulder again. She led the clone through a newly opened corridor of darkness. They left behind Xehanort, who barked orders as they faded away.

“She’s gone. What now?” Ventus let out a sharp sigh.

What now, indeed. A vessel for Master Xehanort, Aqua was certainly a threat to all worlds. Yet she was entirely unstable. The younger one was an anomaly, protected by his own powerful magic and time travel. He was a haunting and was just as much of a menace (and perhaps more so) because of her condition. To protect this world, they all have to go down.

Terra knew on some level, this was about revenge, too. Though he didn’t care if this was unsightly for a proper Keyblade wielder anymore.

“We need to get her alone if we’re going to do anything,” Terra finally said, watching the younger Xehanort start to walk away. “But we also have a duty as Keyblade wielders…

“Ven, listen.” They looked into each other’s eyes, as if discussing a matter of military importance. “I need you to be my surprise factor. You should find a spot higher up on these skyscrapers, but not too far. I’m going to ambush Xehanort, and you need to be ready for my signal so you can strike him from above.”

“What about Aqua?”

“With him out of the way, we can focus on separating her from the other one.” Terra leaned forward and grabbed Ventus by the shoulder, his stare more intense as he needed this last message to stick. “I _need_ you to wait for my call.”

He needed to protect Ventus, and would rather have use him as a finishing blow than keep him around too long in the heat of battle.

Ventus nodded immediately, his eyes full of resolve. “You can count on me.”

With that, the boy hopped over through an open window, disappearing into an unfurnished building where he started to climb up stairs. Terra stepped out of the alleyway, briskly following his target. But he made no effort to keep quiet.

Xehanort stopped in his tracks and faced him. If he was surprised, he made good effort not to show it. “The last time you and I spoke,” he began, his eyes narrowing in amusement and his smirk broadening, “you said I’d be afraid of you upon our next meeting.”

Terra said nothing in return, but instead summoned his Master’s Defender. It was lighter in weight than his own Keyblade, but it packed a magical punch that protected him more efficiently from severe attacks. It was a formidable weapon, but it had more to do with wielding the love for his lost ones. With her Wayfinder and Eraqus’ Keyblade, he would still have a hold onto light - even if he didn’t think he had any left for himself anymore.

“You failed,” Xehanort continued.

He succeeded. He failed. He heard both from the same, twisted man and it meant nothing.  The one thing that was necessary was to shove that smug face right into the concrete.

“I know for a fact that today, you’ll see the end of yourself,” Terra said, perhaps too confidently.

No, he could risk being cocky. He also had Ventus by his side.

Xehanort called for his own Keyblade, unique in its design and barely resembling the old man’s. “Need I remind you this is why you’d fall so easily as a victim to darkness? You’ve served your purpose well as a preservative for long enough. Yet you are such a weakling.”

There was no time to spit a smart retort over being such a disappointment. Xehanort warped to close the gap between them, and he kept this level of aggression throughout.

Terra was kept constantly on his feet to dodge each strike toward him. A strong magic user who loved to rely on deception, Xehanort particularly enjoyed zipping in between positions, just to get Terra to lean one direction so he could be struck from behind. It kept him on the edge of a puppet’s string, and he was played like a cat attempting to strike a fly. Xehanort was fast, his magic damaging.

But his strikes were weak. All that was needed was for Terra to endure. Dodge, endure. Wait for the opportune moment.

Until their Keyblades clashed. Terra, of course, was stronger, and was able to push Xehanort back. Now that the previous rhythm had been interrupted, the tables had turned and Terra took this opportunity to get more aggressive. To create his own flow in between Xehanort’s teleportations, and throw counter-strikes.

What was left was to maneuver Xehanort close enough to Ventus’ building. He’d let his friend, his comrade, his brother, do the rest.

And he almost had his victory, until _she_ called out –

“Enough.”

Aqua casually strolled up to them, the sway in her walk self-assured, her face not impressed with what she had seen.

This was bad. It wasn’t about going up against two incredibly powerful opponents. Rather, Terra simply refused to raise a finger on her body. He wouldn’t ask Ventus to do the same, either. He prepared his fighting stance, ready to summon his glider so he could escape. Yet, he couldn’t keep his eyes away. It had been a while since he last saw her, and to think of leaving her behind... Yet… what if he had no choice?

He kept his grip on his Master’s Keyblade.

Xehanort glared at her. “Where is Xemnas?”

“We’ve got trouble.”  She crossed her arms as she took her place by Xehanort’s side. She glanced at Terra for merely a short second, but kept her focus on her partner. Her stare was unwavering, like a cat watching prey.

“Enough to incapacitate him?” He almost sounded disbelieving. But his eyes contorted with frustration and he huffed. “We’ll disable the Keyblade wielder here, then. Ventus would then be completely unprotected.”

That last statement was an attempt at arousing Terra’s anger, but it didn’t work. He just couldn’t focus.

Her stare. She stared at Xehanort as if she was studying him. It was deadpan and placid, like she was losing herself in his face, and each moment she kept relaxed and stayed silent, Terra knew. This was the face of someone who was ready to throw herself into the abyss.

She nonchalantly waved her arm around, her palm open. Shot from it was a gathering of lightning bolts so powerful that it sent Xehanort flying across the street, crashing into the wall of a building. He fell onto the ground, his body laying lifelessly. His Keyblade dissipated, leaving him defenseless and unconscious.

She flexed her fingers vigorously. Ventus was still watching, waiting for a cue. But Terra couldn’t allow this to turn into a fight. He was desperate to know if she was safe and okay, yet he was terrified of speaking. How unpredictable was she going to be this time? What did any of this mean?

“Going rogue?” he finally asked, as if giving her a friendly question.

“Taking out the trash.” She sounded like herself, but her voice was deeper. It was tired, yet full of spite. “I’ve no need for those who’ve hurt me.” With those last two words, she finally looked at him, her gold eyes piercing.

He shook his head. “I’m not going to fight you, Aqua.”

Her face shuddered, as if she was processing an insult. She cocked her head to the side. “How courteous of you to consider my feelings,” she said through her teeth, sarcasm oozing through.

“I don’t want to be your enemy.”

Her eyes widened, and he swore he could see her pupils shrinking. She started to stride toward him with such nerve that it looked like she was preparing herself to slap him.

“Enemies,” she said mockingly, “friends. It’s too late for them to matter anymore.”

With that, she waved her hand to flash a set of threatening bolts his way. He blocked them, but it forced him to stagger backward. Even with the magical boost the Defender provided, it wasn’t a match for her power and mastery over spells.

Terra held his open palm to the ground, as if commanding a dog to stay. A cue to stand ground. Ventus shouldn’t swoop in to help him. Not now. Not yet.

“Who are you signaling to?” She threw another wave of bolts. He blocked again, but barely matched her speed. This time, he stumbled.

“Don’t mock me,” she growled. “Fight back!”

Her next wave hit him directly. The electricity gripped his entire body and stabbed him several times. His heart beat terribly and quickly, as if begging to be taken out or it would die. But he stood his ground. Allowed the dark energy of her magic to channel through his body and toward the Keyblade, using it as a conductor. Enduring the pain, whimpering from it.

When it was over, he immediately reached for her Wayfinder. It was still intact. He finally remembered to breathe.

“Did it hurt?” he heard her ask.

Then it dawned on him. The shock she sent Xehanort took him out of the ring completely in one swoop. He wondered if she was the trouble that fell on Xemnas.

But her attack this time didn’t even compare in power. She was holding back on him, just to see him wince.

“I get it now,” he said, his voice shaking. He started to tremble, unsure if he wanted to hear what he was going to say. Scared of how she would react. “You want me to feel pain.” 

She pursed her lips.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” he continued. “You want me to hurt.” He raised his voice. “Well it does. I am miserable every day. I can’t stand to see you this way. I can’t stand to be away from you, and I hate that I still exist while you continue to suffer for my sake!”

Her brows furrowed and her eyes started to tear, as if she realized something horrific. She grabbed her left arm rapidly, as if she was suffering intense pain. Her grip was so strong, it twisted the fabric of her cloak.

“You should have left me to rot in the Realm of Darkness, Aqua. I would have at least found some peace knowing you were safe.” He stopped yelling, but it was a struggle to keep his voice even. “So yes, it does hurt. Does that make you feel better?”

Her breath was shallow and she didn’t let go of her grip on herself. She leaned into her arm, as if seeking comfort for herself. She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Terra sighed, willfully ignoring the soreness throughout his whole body, and how tight his chest felt. He stepped forward and reached his hand out. “Come with us, then. Come home.” He caught a sob before it left him. “We just want you to get better.”

“Get better.” She said it in a way to mimic him. Her eyes scattered the ground and darted in many directions around her. What was going through her mind?

He couldn’t ask her. Aqua had this look of gloom, as if suddenly being told the most devastating secret only she could hear. She let go of her grip and clutched her fist at her heart. Shaking, she whimpered, and collapsed backward.

“Aqua!” he gasped, running toward her and dropping the Defender on the ground. He cradled her in his arms, holding her firmly so she’d stop trembling. She looked into his eyes, her own wide in fear. She groaned through closed lips, trying so hard to speak to him but couldn’t.

Her hands shook violently, yet she managed to pull one of her gloves off. The tips of her fingers were bright red, the rest of her arm a burnt violet. It was unsightly, and- was she turning inhuman? It took her a lot of effort, but she raised it to touch his cheek.

Her fingers were deathly cold, hardened, and scaly. Like a lizard’s skin. She cupped his cheek, her thumb feeling the width of his face. He reached to hold her hand in his, which was still so petite in comparison. He held it tenderly, trying to warm it up, yet mortified of shattering her to pieces if he squeezed too tightly. 

“Terra!” Ventus landed on the ground and skidded over to where they were. “Whoa,” he said when he saw the state of her skin, “did that happen to you?”

“No,” he said, not taking his gaze away from her. She held it in return, searching his eyes as if finding a reason to continue on. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We stick to the plan,” he said without missing a beat. There was nothing else that they knew to do, and she needed help now.

Aqua continued to stare up at him, like a child gazing through the window of a candy store. She didn’t acknowledge Ventus’ presence at all, and it made him wonder whether she was truly conscious of what she was looking at.

“Hey,” he called to her with a soft smile, “Ven’s here. Look.” He gently coaxed her hand over and pointed his finger.

She blinked and slowly followed his lead, as though it took her a while to comprehend what she was doing.

“Hey, Aqua,” Ventus said, though his voice was completely shaken by nerves. He smiled, albeit it was forced and intimidated, and he shot several sideways glances toward Terra as if to beg for instructions on what to do.

At the sight of his smile, her eyes widened and she moaned with awe. She reached out to touch him, and he took her hand with both of his own.

“We’re finally together again,” he said, keeping a grin up and trying not break down. “Terra kind of sucks with cooking and it’s too quiet. I’ve missed you, Aqua. We both have.”

She whimpered in response, her eyes watery.

Xehanort was still unconscious, sprawled out on the ground. They’d better get this over with, before any reinforcements threaten to take her back again.

“We’re going to help you, Aqua,” Terra said, and she returned her golden eyes back to him, softening when looking into his. He adjusted his arms so that her head was supported better, to make her more comfortable. “It’s not going to hurt. Okay? You’re not going to feel a single little thing.” His breathing deepened. This sucked. But it had to be done. “Trust me.”

She blinked several times in response, the twitch in her brows almost begging for some salvation.

“Ven is going to put you into a very deep sleep.”

Her pupils dilated, and in desperation she grabbed onto his shirt, her strength so fragile that she scratched him through the fabric. Her face quivered furiously, and she finally managed to move her mouth to speak.

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. Her voice was hoarse, shaky, and barely audible.

He took her hand and carried it over her Wayfinder, safely resting on his chest. “I will be by your side the entire time, Aqua. I promise.”

He meant it. It was a promise he made for himself, as well. 

Eventually she nodded, though her head waggled a bit and made circular movements.

Terra gestured toward his comrade with his head, a blessing to finally start.

Ventus intertwined his fingers together, attempting to steady his breathing. Like someone willing themselves to do something they were frightened of, he finally summoned his Keyblade in his left hand, and pet the top of her crown with his right. Hovering the Keyblade over her forehead, he closed his eyes and calmed himself. He didn’t say anything, but eventually the Wayward Wind glowed with a soft blue light. This was the spell he learned from the good fairies.

Her eyes fluttered and relaxed, gently shutting as the tension in her entire body released. She leaned more into Terra’s embrace, as if she knew she was protected.

“You did good, Ven,” Terra said, nodding in approval and encouragement.

Ventus withdrew his Keyblade, gulping. He looked as though he was slightly nauseous.

If she was going to be stuck with the gradient blue-to-white hair after this was over, she’d still be stunning. Terra brushed the hair off her face, stroking the skin of her forehead before going to her cheek. Her face was still soft, yet not as warm as it should be. She looked peaceful and carefree in her sleep, and deservedly so.

“Terra?”

Ventus shifted uncomfortably, looking back toward Xehanort for signs of movement. It was dusk now. They were taking too long.

“Right.” The Master’s Keyblade laid by itself on the ground, but Terra wouldn’t dare taint it. It would have been disrespectful in his memory.

He summoned his own Keyblade, which was used to do the forbidden once before. Wielders were supposed to be protectors of light and hearts. Even when manipulated and forced by an evil witch, Terra remembered what it felt like to pull a heart out of a body, which was a terrible and forbidden act. To wield the power to mess with a person’s life.

Now he was faced with the choice to do it again, but toward the person he cared about most. What kind of Keyblade Master could he ever be if he was doing the things that would make someone like Xehanort pleased?

He could ask for her forgiveness, but this was just an addition to the list of things he needed pardon for. 

He could tell her he loved her again, but that was a pain that stabbed hard. A sober Aqua may still leave him after all.

But none of that mattered. He still owed her freedom, and he would go that far to grant it.

Without anything meaningful to say, Terra aimed his Keyblade toward her chest, and called for two hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The wonderful and fabulous Lorelei drew an absolutely stunning Aquanort based on this chapter and I can't begin to find the words at how excited and honored I am that she did!!!! You can see it on[Twitter](https://twitter.com/loreleimelodei/status/1127616529821048835?s=20) or on [Tumblr](https://lorelei-melodei.tumblr.com/post/184828714025/one-of-my-favorite-scenes-in-mimiplaysgames)!**


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